Hear The Wind Blow: The 47th Hunger Games SYOT
by mystical pine forest
Summary: Hang your head over, hear the wind blow. Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow. The story of the 47th Hunger Games. You will bleed, or not. Scar, or not. Live, or not. Test your luck. SYOT CLOSED!
1. Chapter 1: Prologue 1

_Down in the valley, the valley so low_

 _Hang your head over, hear the wind blow_

 _Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow;_

 _Hang your head over, hear the wind blow._

* * *

 _BOOM._

The cannon boom startled sixteen-year-old Breea Crawford awake. It was the final two, and she was in it.

Who had died? It could have been the boy from 4 or the boy from 5, but Breea wasn't sure who. She instinctively reached for her axe as she looked front, back, left, right. No one.

Breea stood up, rubbing her eyes. _Surely, they'll find me if I stay here._ She grabbed her bag and set off.

The _crack_ of a twig under a heavy boot and a muttered curse five minutes later caused Breea to reach for her axe, her long blonde braid flying as she whipped her head toward the sound.

The creator of the noise was the boy from Five. Breea let out a breath. _Oh my gosh, he killed the Four boy._

The boy held up his hand. "Wait," he whispered.

Breea lowered her axe.

"What's your name?" asked the boy.

"Breea. Breea Crawford. Who are you?"

"Me, I'm Gage Brewer," he replied. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to know your name. I didn't want for one of us to die without knowing our killer's name. Although, with this-" he pointed to a large gash on his abdomen- "you'll probably be victorious."

Breea winced. "Yeah."

Gage smiled wistfully. "Good luck, Breea."

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Breea returned the smile and said.

With that, she reached for her axe, and Gage for his sword, and they began to fight.

The fight continued for a few minutes, at which point Gage began to let his guard down. Breea took the opportunity.

 _Wham._ She slammed the axe into Gage's chest, and his blood flew through the air. Breea stumbled back, not believing what she'd done.

She trembled there, in shock, not hearing the groans and pleas of the boy she'd just condemned to death. Breea heard the cannon boom a minute later. She fell to the ground, ears covered, as the trumpets blared.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Victor of the Forty-Sixth Hunger Games! Breea Crawford of District Seven!"

* * *

 _Song: The Valley Song from the Hunger Games soundtrack_

* * *

 **Well, here we are again. Just so you know, I am still doing Articulosis. I want to get a head start on this story, and I mainly want to be able to have a nice big cast of tributes to choose from. Articulosis WILL be finished.**

 **Here we have a sneak peek at last year's Victor and the newest Mentor, Breea Crawford.**

 **I have put the rules and form up on my profile. I will not be accepting reservations, and this is not first come first serve. I will choose the absolute best tributes.**

 **I hope you all are pumped for this story. I will be putting a lot more thought and planning into HTWB than I did for Articulosis, so expect one heck of a wild ride. :D**

 **Well, enjoy the ride! I hope to see a bunch of awesome tributes :))**


	2. Chapter 2: Prologue 2

Trying hard to reach out

But when I tried to speak out

Felt like no one could hear me

Wanted to belong here

But something felt so wrong here

* * *

 _You killed Gage and Pexey._

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 _They're dead, and it's your fault._

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 _You're a murderer, Breea._

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 _You-_

"STOP!"

Breea Crawford's sister, Kezia, snapped her head in Breea's direction. "What is it, Breea?"

"Kez, it's the voices again. I swear, I hear their voices every waking moment." Breea shook her head. "It's Gage one time, and Pexey the next. And after that, it's my own self."

"Ah. I see." The girls sat in silence for a while, until Kezia patted the seat next to her.

"Sit. Talk."

Kezia and Breea had always had an unbreakable bond. They would cling to each other all the time, a habit Breea had started as a toddler and had never given up. The sisters seldom fought, and when they did, it was never anything serious- who gets the last cookie, who gets to play with the doll first, who gets to pet the horse. After Breea's Games, the two had grown even closer.

Breea slid across the bench to sit by Kezia. "Today's the Reaping, Kez. I'm Mentoring this year. What if I get a tribute I don't know how to handle? What if they don't listen to me? What if they're _older_ than me? What if- what if they die?"

"Oh, Bree. How can I help you?"

"You can't, Kez. You don't know what it's like to kill a little fourteen-year-old girl and a sixteen-year-old boy. You don't know what it's like to be a household name in all of Panem. You just don't understand!" Breea said, voice rising. "Go. I don't want any help right now. I need to get changed out of these," she murmured, pointing to the ratty tee shirt and jean shorts she'd been wearing. "Go get ready to see kids picked for a deathmatch."

Kezia stood up wordlessly and walked out of the room, throwing a glance over her shoulder at her younger sister.

"GO!"

* * *

 _Song: Kelly Clarkson's Breakaway_

* * *

 **Hey, all! Welcome to this new chapter! It's another introduction because not all the slots have submissions. I have no submissions in the District Eight Male slot and the District Six Female slot, and most of the others only have one submission. Submit, pretty please? :3**

 **I hope to get the District One Reapings out next chapter, but it depends. I need to get at least one submission for every slot before I can finalize the list.**

 **As you can see, winning the Games really took a toll on poor Breea. Lucky D7 submitters, you get a sneak peek at the Mentor!**

 **Also, if you have sent in a part of a submission, but not the whole thing, I need the rest of the submission soon. You know who you are ;)**

 **Anyway, I love all the submissions I have so far! You guys are making it soooo hard to choose xD Keep it up though! For those of you who read Articulosis, I hope to get out a new chapter by the end of next week, but we'll see.**

 **I don't particularly love this chapter, but I thought I owed you all one :).** **I'll stop rambling now. Byeeee!**


	3. Chapter 3: D1 Reapings

_Peridot Jones (Age 17, District One Female)_

* * *

 _Longing to control_

 _Those without esteem_

 _Ignorant pawns_

 _Of your pathetic dreams_.

* * *

I concentrate on the target at which I'm aiming with my spear, blocking out all the clashes of weapons and sound in the background. I really need to get better at ranged combat.

I bring my arm back to behind my head, adjusting my aim- slightly to the left, right… perfect. I throw the spear at the target and watch it as it flies through the air in a gentle arc. The spear lodges itself in the target, and I walk up to it.

Argh. The spear is stuck in the target, sure, but it's not a bulls-eye. More like a pathetic throw.

"That tribute's gotten away from you, Peridot," yells a trainer, looking up from where he's quizzing a Twelve on plants. The girls in the room look up, locate a very red-faced me pulling the spear out of the third ring on the target, and titter. Jerks.

 _You know what got away from you?_ I think. I'd never actually sass a trainer, however, I do make comebacks up in my head. _The chance to volunteer. You've never been half as good as me, Mr. Trainer, and you never will be._

I giggle to myself as I walk back to my spot ten yards from the target. When I get to the spot, I notice the sneaker-adorned feet of my trainer, Generosity.

"Hey, Jen," I mutter, looking up into her face. Jen won the 35th Games. She's also the strictest trainer I know. Generosity? Yeah, right.

Jen trains the chosen tributes personally, so she must be here to pick me up. We- my District Partner, Jen, and I- are going out to breakfast for some last-minute advice and coaching on the Reapings.

"Let's go," Jen says, reaching for the spear. "Go change. I'll put this away."

I nod. "Going." I walk off to the locker rooms, where I unlock my locker quickly. I pick out my duffel bag, and slip on a nice pink blouse, jean shorts and strappy sandals. I pull my blonde hair up into a messy bun, slam my locker door shut, and head out the door to where Jen's waiting.

"Took you long enough," Heron mumbles.

"You hear that?" I shoot back. "That's the sound of nobody caring, Heron."

Jen groans. "Quit fighting, you two. You'll be spending the next few weeks together, so you better learn to get along."

Heron laughs. "Yeah, Peridottie."

"Don't call me that, please," I say with emphasis on the _please_.

Jen sighs, massaging her temples. "Get in the car."

"I call shotgun!" Heron shouts.

I pout. "Really, Heron? You make fun of me and then you steal my spot in Miss Jen's car?"

"Whatever, Peridot. You take it." Heron sighs.

"All right!" I cry, hopping into the front seat of Jen's convertible. I hand Heron my bag, and he stuffs it in the backseat.

Jen gets into her seat and begins to drive. I settle back into my seat. I love District One, but I'm sure I'll love it even more after I win.

Suck it, Heron.

* * *

 _Heron Filigree (Age 18, District One Male)_

 _Because I'm hyped up, outta control_

 _If it's a fight I'm ready to go_

 _I wouldn't put my money on the other guy_

 _If you know what I already know_

* * *

My District Partner is such a princess.

She made me give up the front seat in Generosity's car, she expects me to be her maid, and she's super rude to me. Really, I'd be fine if she only made me give up my seat. I'd be able to not kill her if she made me be her maid. I'd even tolerate her rudeness.

But any combination of the three, and that princess of a girl is dead as soon as we get to the Games.

I look forward to the day when my knife impales Peridot's body, sinks itself into her heart. The boom of a cannon, and Peridot Jones will never bother me again.

"Heron! Earth to Heron!" I hear. The squeaky voice continues. "Heeeeeron! Are you paying _any_ attention to me?"

"Hm?!" I snap.  
Peridot opens her mouth to speak. I hold up a hand. "Frankly, I don't care." I go back to my thoughts, or at least attempt to.

"Heron! I _said_ , what are you wearing to the Reaping?"

I actually hadn't considered that yet. Good question, girl. "Not sure. Why?"

"We need to decide on your angle, Heron," Jen breaks in. "If you're gonna be intimidating, we need to start that with your Reaping outfit. Same with if you'll be confident, or sexy, or flirty."

I ponder this. "Confident sound good to you?" I ask.

"I think that fits," Jen says. We pull into the resturaunt.

"So, what would I wear?" I ask. "I have a tux, but I think that qualifies more as flirty or intimidating."

"Tee shirt and slacks." Jen says. "Don't let your outfit distract from the overall performance. Peridot, on the other hand, I want you to wear a dress and heels. I made it clear to the other trainees that no one but you two will be volunteering, on penalty of expulsion. You won't need to worry about beating anyone to the stage."

"Great!" Peridot chirps. "I have the perfect thing."

We all get out of the car, walking into the restaurant. I love this place. "Mmmmm, Fancie's Diner."

"Go on," Peridot says. "Jen and I need to have a word." Jen looks at Peridot funny, but nods.

"Go on in, Heron."

I shrug, getting in line for a table.  
"Hi, and welcome to Fancie's Diner. How may I help you?" I hear. Looking up, I see a short girl who can't quite be out of the Reaping yet.

I smile. "Oh, hi. I have a party of three?" I gesture to Jen and Peridot.

"Ah. Follow me," the girl says, and I comply.

The girl speaks up as we walk to the table. "Now, I'm sure I've seen you before. Am I crazy?"

"Probably not. I'm this year's Tribute."  
"That explains it."

"Yeah…" I trail off.

I sit down at the table as the girl- Gracious, her nametag reads- hands me three menus.  
"I'll be right back with the complimentary breadsticks and soda."

"Right on."

I shift awkwardly in my seat. What if this is the last time I'll be here in Fancie's?

 _Don't think like that. You'll come back._

And I will.

* * *

 _Arabelle Francis (District One Escort)_

* * *

The kids file into the pens, quietly but quickly. I spot the banners of this year's selected tributes- apparently their names are Peridot and Heron- and look through the crowd to see if I can spot them. I find the girl in the pen of seventeens, but I can't see the boy.

The clock chimes ten, and I walk out into the center stage area. I tap on the microphone once, then begin the Reaping speech.  
"Welcome, everyone. I am your escort, Arabelle. Now, let's get started with the Reapings. Let's shake it up a bit and start with the young men today." I walk over to the huge glass bowl, and draw a slip.

"Passion Peru, are you here?" I say into the microphone. "Passion Peru, please make your way to the stage."

A deep voice carries over the crowd. "I volunteer as tribute!"

A tall, platinum blonde boy steps out of the eighteens, dressed in a blue shirt and black pants. He saunters to the stage, where her turns to face the audience as if this were rehearsed. "Heron Filigree. You'll be seeing this face a lot, so get used to it." The audience applauds.

I giggle. "All right, thank you, Heron. Next up, for the girls." I step to the girl's bowl, picking out a single slip. I clear my throat. "Jessamine Luxor!"

"I volunteer!" The girl, Peridot, sashays from the seventeens, striking a pose. The crowd goes wild. Peridot is obviously eating up all the attention, and takes her sweet time getting to the stage.

"I'm Peridot Jones. Your future Victor!" She gets wild applause as well.

"District One, your tributes! Heron Filigree and Peridot Jones!"

* * *

 _Heron Filigree (Age 18, District One Male)_

 _Because I'm hyped up, outta control_

 _If it's a fight I'm ready to go_

 _I wouldn't put my money on the other guy_

 _If you know what I already know._

* * *

I sit on the plush couch, fingering the end of my shirt. Where is Victory?

A knock sounds at the door. "Heron?" My mother, Rhiannon, and father, Swithin, walk into the room. "Honey!"

"Hey, Ma." I say. "Hello, Dad."  
"Heron, dear, we're so proud of you!" Ma says, handing me a bronze bracelet. "Take this."  
Dad smiles. "It's to protect your arm, Heron. Use it well."

I grin. My family is genius! "Thank you, Dad!"

"We need to go now. The neighbors have called for a celebratory dinner in your honor!" Ma says.

"All right. I love you, Ma. I love you, Dad."

"We love you too." I hug Ma, shake Dad's hand and watch them leave.

The next visitor walks in less than thirty seconds after Ma and Dad leave.

"Victory!"

"Heron, you can win this. Peridot is a bubblegum princess and you are so focused and mature. You can totally do this!" She hugs me. I accept the hug, rubbing her back and wishing in the back of my mind that I hadn't volunteered. _I wish I could stay with Victory._

 _Don't think like that, Heron. You've trained for years. There's no way you won't win._

Victory pulls away. "Heron, look at me. I love you. I need you to come back."

"Of course I will come back! After all, my true Victory awaits here," I say, and Victory beams. We go in for another hug.

"Goodbye, Heron," says Victory.

I frown. "No, Victory. This isn't goodbye, just see you later. I love you."

"See you later, then." Victory says.

The Peacekeeper walks into the room, pulling Victory with him. "See you later, Victory!"

The door slams, and my Victory is carried away.

* * *

 _Peridot Jones (Age 17, District One Female)_

 _Longing to control_

 _Those without esteem_

 _Ignorant pawns_

 _Of your pathetic dreams_.

* * *

I pace in the small room, waiting. Where the heck is everyone?!

A knock at the door perks my ears up "Olive? Bella? Emilynn?"

My friends walk in, Olive in front, Bella in the middle, and that one other girl whose name I can't remember in back. Emmy? Ellie?

The girls crowd around me, all but Olive talking at once. I grin. "Girls! Calm down, calm down. Now, Estellany, you go first. What have you got?"

Estellany(?) speaks up. "Your brother got mad again. I'll beat him up, Peridot! Let me do it!"

Oh, Obsidian, my brother. He's probably jealous. After all, I am the best trainee in District One, and Obsidian… isn't.

"Jealous, he is! No, Estefany. Don't bother."

"Her name is Epiphany!" Olive breaks in. "If you're going to call her your friend, at least learn her name!"  
I sigh. "Olive. You know why you're around. Don't make me kick you out…"

Olive nods. "Yes, mistress, my dear owner."

"Get out." I snarl. "You sass off to me, you pay. Guards!"

The Peacekeepers walk in, pulling Olive out of the door. I sigh.

"Sorry, Bella. Sorry, Ebony."

Bella smiles. "That's all right, Peridot. I brought you a token! Use it in hard times, to help you remember where you come from." She hands me a clear plastic tube. _My feeding tube._

A long time ago, maybe four or five years, I was bullied. Not, like, the kind when you go run home to mom and everything's okay. Like, the kind that gives you disorders. I had braces and a face of acne, was overweight, and I was so unattractive that everyone called me the "ugly duckling". I developed anorexia. It went on to the point where I was severely depressed and weighed 85 pounds at fourteen. They had to feed me through a tube- this tube, to be precise.

Then, like all kids, I went through puberty. My mom let me dye my hair blonde from its natural light brown state, and I got my braces off. One can only describe it as the ugly duckling turning into a swan.  
I hug Bella. "Thanks, Bella. I'll keep this."

Ellery(?) comes up next, ready to give me a hug, but the Peacekeepers barge in.

"Time." They pull Bella and Embry out of the room, leaving me alone.

Mom and Dad are my other visitors.

"Obsidian didn't come?" I ask as soon as they walk in.

"No, he was upstairs sulking when we left. Sorry, Peridot." Dad says.

Mom hugs me. "You have a token?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Honey, we need to leave. We love you and we'll see you soon."

"See you soon!" I say. "I'll win for you!"

And with that, they walk out the door.

* * *

 _Songs: Manipulation: Fear Factory, You're Going Down: Sick Puppies_

* * *

 **Allllll righty! D1, DONE! One down, eleven to go. :)**

 **I know that Peridot's goodbyes were a bit longer than Heron's. Sorry. Peridot had some backstory to her token that I wanted to fit in.**

 _ **IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:**_

 **The blog is up! hearthewindblowhg. weebly. com is the address. Blog reviews would be nice? :3**

 **Anyway! Questions!**

 _Who do you like better, Peridot or Heron? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Peridot?_

 _Thoughts on Heron?_

 _Predictions?_

 **So, I hope to update soon! See you all later :)**


	4. Chapter 4: D2 Reapings

_Kathryn "Katie" Willburn (Age 15, District Two Female)_

* * *

 _We paint white roses red,_

 _Each shade from a different person's head_

 _This dream, dream is a killer_

 _Getting drunk with a blue caterpillar_

* * *

 _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

I shoot three bolts out of the crossbow, one after the other. Only two hit the bulls-eye, and I sigh.

"You can do better that _that_ , Kathryn!" my father growls. "Again."

I nod. I really just want to get back in bed, seeing as it's only 6:30 and I've been training since 5:30, but I'd never talk back to my father. Loading the crossbow once more, I shoot three more bolts at the other target.

 _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

This time, all three bolts hit the center of the target. My father nods. "Let's go do something else. I think you're done with weapon training- for now."

He trudges off to the chin-up bar and I follow. I hate chin-ups, and Dad knows it, but I know he's only doing the best for me.

Dad points to the bar. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and hands and hang from the bar.

"I say 'up', you count out loud. Up."

I pull my chin to the bar. "One!"

"Up."

"Two!"

"FASTER! UP!"

I grimace. "Three!"

After I've suffered through two hundred chin-ups, Dad lets me drop from the bar. I examine my hands, only to find that I've acquired a new blister.  
He scowls. "Kathryn. Focus. Go to the testing station."

I oblige, walking at first and then thinking better of it. I begin to sprint across the room to the testing machine. Sitting down, I hook the shockers up to my arms and legs and let my father shackle me into the machine.

Father begins to pace in front of me. "Let's start with some easy questions. What is the name of the current President of Panem?"

"Coriolanus Snow, sir!" I say.

"How old is said President of Panem?"

"Forty-six, sir!"

He nods. "Let's move on. Victor of the 21st Hunger Games?"  
This one is harder. When I was nine, I knew all the names and Districts of every Victor in Games history. Unfortunately, I haven't been quizzed on them since I was twelve.  
"Kathryn. You have ten seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight."

I decide on my answer at three. Taking a deep breath, and hoping to be correct, I give my answer.

"Harleigh Hammerson of District Six…?"

Dad growls. "Is that a question or an answer?"

"An answer, sir!"

"Incorrect," Dad says, a cruel grin on his face. "The answer, my dear Kathryn, is Allred James of District Two." He holds up his remote. I squint my eyes shut, waiting for the sharp sensation of electricity pulsing through me. After about ten seconds, I open my eyes, fully expecting to see my father dead on the ground. Normally he would have pressed his button by now.

And then he pushes the button. I squint my eyes shut and scream as the pain shoots through my legs and arms. Dad's holding down the button. The pain, oh, the pain!

The sharp sting suddenly dies out, and my father is in front of me when I open my eyes.

"Get dressed for the Reaping. And don't let yourself into my sight until you are in the Justice Building."

I scamper off in the direction of my bedroom, both sad and grateful that training is over for the day. As I put on a blue floral dress, thousands of thoughts race through my head.

 _What if Gaia makes it to the stage first? I heard she's the chosen volunteer this year. What if I'm Reaped, and Gaia volunteers? What if I make it to the stage first, but I die in the Games? What if-_

"You are the strongest, Katie. You will make it to that stage first, and you will win the Games." I whisper.

And I mean it.

* * *

 _Gabriel Alderyne (Age 17, District Two Male)_

* * *

 _The trembling fear is more than I can take,_

 _When I'm up against_

 _The echo in the mirror!_

* * *

I lay in my bed, not sleeping. I just lay there and _think._ This is likely my last day in District Two, because I'm volunteering.

It's not like I _want_ to volunteer. I know, shocker. Most boys from my District would jump at the chance to be me, but not because I'm rich or the son of a Victor or anything. I swear, all I did was train to make my mom happy, and suddenly, I got chosen for the Games, and now I'm surrounded by paparazzi and all that crap. I honestly could care less.

I lay there and think for a few minutes, about home and my family and Cora, and then a knock at the door interrupts my pity-party.

"Gabe?" calls a small voice from the other side of the door.

"Go away." I grumble.

The voice persists. "Gabe, it's Eirene. Open the door. Mom wants to talk to you and I do too."

"Is Mom out there?"

"Yeah, and she's getting impatient. I'd open up if I were you."

I sigh, rolling over and standing up. "Well, you're not me, are you?" I say under my breath as I open the door to reveal Eirene, and behind her, Mom.

My ten-year-old sister bounds up to me, pouncing on my body. Her short black hair whips around her face, and I think how this could be the last time I look into my sister's almond-shaped brown eyes and see myself in them.

"Woah, tiger. Calm down!" I say.

Eirene grins, and I can see the loose teeth in her mouth. "Gabe, we're so proud of you! I'm really excited for you to go to the Capitol and I'll see you on the big screen in the living room, and if I look out the window, you'll be on the screen in the town square for all the lower classes to see! At least that's what Albatia said happened when her sister Hadia went into the Games. Oh my gosh, will you get to play games with all the other kids there?"

I am taken aback by this. I thought for sure Mom and Dad had told Eirene about the Games, especially after her little friend Albatia's sister, Hadia, won the 44th. She must not know what's going to happen to me.

"Uh. Yes, Reeni, I will play games. Go run along and play with someone, I need to talk with Mom and Dad."

"Okay," Eirene giggles, heading in the direction of the door. Dad passes her and walks in after she leaves. Mom and Dad sit on my bed.

"You didn't tell Reeni about the Games?" I accuse.

"I knew this would happen eventually, but we didn't want to scare her, the poor dear. She's only ten, you know."

"Yeah. Ten. When I was ten, I was at the Training Center almost twenty-four seven. That 'she's only ten' isn't going to work here. Don't you think she deserves to know why she can't play with Albatia when Hadia's around?"

Mom sighs. "I know, Gabriel. I guess my excuses won't work here?"

"Heck no."

Dad breaks in. "Let's talk about Gabriel for a moment. Son, you've trained for this your entire life. Are you having doubts?"

"Even if I was, I wouldn't be discussing them with you." The words come out harsher than I intended, and as soon as they're out, I wish I could take them back.

Mom purses her lips together. "Gabriel, don't you use that tone on your father. Apologize."

"I apologize." I mutter.  
"Thank you. Now, Gabriel, keep in mind that anything you need about the Games, you can always ask us."

A knock at the door startles me. "Mommy, are you almost done? This is certainly a very _long_ private talk."

"Mommy will be right out, Eirene." Mom calls. "Whatever happens, Gabriel, know we love you and are proud of you."

"All of you?" I whisper.

"All of us. Now, get ready for the Reaping." And they stand up and walk out of my bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts yet again.

* * *

 _Laurita Hactor (District Two Escort)_

* * *

My phone rings, and I silence it. Two minutes to the Reaping, and I'm _still_ not ready.

"Would you hurry?" I ask impatiently. "I'm on in two minutes. National television, Aidra!"

"I'm going as fast as I can." Aidra replies, calmly. "If you had washed your hair last night instead of on Tuesday, we'd be done."

"Oh, but then I would have thrown my whole schedule off balance! You know I wash my hair Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and dye my skin a new color every Tuesday!"

"I do know that. You're done, madam."

"Thank gosh, finally!" I wave at Aidra and walk out onto the stage to my seat. As I sit down, the clock chimes eleven. The scheduled start time is here.

The mayor walks to the mike, starting his program. He lists off all ten of District Two's Victors, then looks to me.

I make my way to the center stage. "Welcome, you all, to the 47th annual Hunger Games!" Wild applause rings over the square, and I hold up a hand to stop it. "All right. Let's start with the girls, shall we?" I walk to the bowl for the young ladies, pull out a small white slip, and walk back to the mike. Before I can open the slip of paper, a voice rings through the square.

"I volunteer as tribute," A small girl walks confidently out of the _fifteens._

The crowd gasps. It's an unspoken rule in District Two to wait until the Reaped girl or boy is called to the stage before one volunteers. Obviously, this girl was not the chosen volunteer, because I hear a loud, shrieking curse from the eighteens.

"And what, may I ask, is your name?" I ask when the girl makes it to the stage.

"Kathryn Willburn," she says confidently.

I pull the mike away. "Well. Now for the boys." I draw a slip. "Servius Hampsten!"

"I volunteer," a call comes from the seventeens. As the boy walks upstage, I study the two tributes. The girl is medium-height, but small, with dark hair that curls over her brown left eye. The boy is taller, with dark almond-shaped eyes and dark hair. A good crop this year.

"Your name, sir?" I ask, tilting the mike towards the boy.

He grins. "Gabriel Alderyne."

"District Two, your tributes! Kathryn Willburn and Gabriel Alderyne!"

* * *

 _Kathryn "Katie" Willburn (Age 15, District Two Female)_

* * *

 _We paint white roses red,_

 _Each shade from a different person's head_

 _This dream, dream is a killer_

 _Getting drunk with a blue caterpillar_

* * *

"Gallow!" I cry as the door opens. "Hey!"

"Hey, Katie! How you doing?" We move in for a hug.

"Good." I reply. Before I can say anything else, she hands me a bracelet.

"Mom gave this to me, but you know how much I hate jewlery. Take it, to remind you of home."

"Thanks, Gallow," I reply. We hug again.

As Gallow pulls away, she notices my dress. "How can you wear a dress?!" she exclaims.

"Um. I pull it over my head and button it up." I giggle.

Gallow laughs. "I had better go, Katie. I'll see you later?"  
"Yeah," I say. "For sure."

We hug one last time. Then, Gallow waves and walks out of the huge oak door.

Dad is my next visitor. He walks in, and for the whole time, he lectures me about what will happen if I don't win. _All our family's honor will be lost...blah, blah._ Yeah. Dad, this is not a training session, this is possibly the last time you'll ever see me. Make it count.

And he does, surprisingly. At the very end, he moves toward me. I feel his arms wrap around me in an awkward hug.

I squirm a bit, but eventually give up. Dad lets go.

He walks out of the door without another word and leaves me wondering.

* * *

 _Gabriel Alderyne (Age 17, District Two Male)_

* * *

 _The trembling fear is more than I can take,_

 _When I'm up against_

 _The echo in the mirror!_

* * *

Mom, Dad and Eirene are the first visitors. "Hey!" I say, looking up from where I'd been playing with a loose thread on my pants.

Reeni runs up to me. "Gabe, don't go! I don't want you to die!" She smashes herself into me, whimpering pathetically.  
I put my arms around her, giving Dad a strange look. _I take it you told her?_ I mouth. Dad nods.

"Tiger, oh, tiger. I'll be fine, don't you worry!"

"Promise?" Reeni whimpers, tears in her eyes.

"I promise."

Reeni thrusts something into my hands. It's soft, like a pillow, and in the shape of a small animal. I look down into my hands, and see the small patchwork bear Reeni gave me two years ago after a particularly severe panic attack.

"Oh, tiger," I whisper. Now it's my turn to cry. My eyes well up, and I motion for Mom and Dad to join our hug. We stay there for about a minute.

There's a knock at the door, and a peacekeeper walks in. "Time," he says. Reeni and Mom grab hands, and Dad leads them out.

"I love you!" I call after them.

My friend Cora walks in after my family leaves. She hugs me and we hold it for about thirty seconds. "Good luck, Gabe."

With that, she leaves. Nothing more. I sit down and cry my feelings out, for Reeni and for Cora.

* * *

Songs Used: Echo: Gumi; Mad Hatter: Melanie Martinez

* * *

 **I gotta go soon, so I'll make this quick. I hope you all liked this chapter! I don't feel like I did well enough with Katie. Sorry...**

 **Questions:**

 _Who do you like better, Katie or Gabriel? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Katie?_

 _Thoughts on Gabriel?_

 _Predictions?_

 **See you all later!**


	5. Chapter 5: D3 Reapings

_Nokia Skypewalker (District Three Female, age 13)_

* * *

 _Someday I'll be living in a big ole city_

 _And all you're ever gonna be is mean_

 _Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me_

 _And all you're ever gonna be is mean_

* * *

"And who knows the answer to this equation?" asks the teacher, pointing to the board. I look up from the paper I'd been doodling on. The equation? _2x+3=5x-9_. I shake my head and go back to the doodle- a small drawing of Frasier, our escort. Today is the day of the Reaping, but since it doesn't take place until four, the middle and high schoolers still have school. So here I am, stuck in Mr. Grant's seventh period math class.

"Ms. Skypewalker!"

My head snaps up. "Hm?"  
Mr. Grant looks at me sternly. "Since you've been busy drawing for the last forty minutes, let's have you answer a question. What is the answer?"

"I-"

 _Brrrring!_

"Oh, there's the bell. Gotta go!" I chirp, grabbing my books. _Saved by the bell, yet again._

Mr. Grant shakes his head. "Nokia, see me after everyone leaves, please."

I sit back down, waiting for the rest of the class to leave. As the other kids file out the door, I walk over to the teacher's desk.

"Yes, sir?"  
"Nokia. What will I ever do with you? I can't give you detention, because you didn't do anything wrong. I can't just let you be, because you won't get anywhere in life! Your tutor obviously isn't helping."

"Yeah. Alice is good and all, but she has this weird way of solving equations that makes absolutely no sense."

Mr. Grant peers at me through his spectacles. "Well. I have here the name of a very intelligent seventeen-year-old boy that offered to help you with your math. You'll begin seeing him today. In fact, he's out of school in… ten minutes. Why don't you take a minute to go down to the eighth grade reading classroom? He'll be there soon."

I sigh. "Yes, sir."

I pack up my books and leave the classroom, walking down the hall to my locker. Opening it, I pull out my backpack- an ugly leather bag with a huge black buckle. I slip my books inside and sling it over my shoulder as I slam the door shut.

I head down to room 450, the eighth grade reading room, and knock gently on the door. No reply.

I open the door, looking around the bright, cheery classroom. That's new- the eighth graders must have a great teacher to furnish the dreary gray room the School for Intelligent Citizens provides.

I sit down at a table in the corner of the room. Opening my bag and pulling out a book, I delve into the world of fantasy, of knights in shining armor and castles and handsome princes.

I am startled back to reality by a knock at the door. A tall boy walks in, an elfish grin on his face. His dark hair is spiked up, and he's dressed in ratty jeans and a blue tee shirt, with a gray hoodie over the top.

"Hey!" exclaims the boy. "I'm your tutor."

"What's your name?" I ask.

"I'm Solder. Solder Carvahall."

* * *

 _Solder Carvahall (District Three Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _La da da da dee, you're not breaking me_

 _La de da da da, ain't got time for ya, singing_

 _La da da da dee, you won't shatter me_

 _La de da da da, got an unbreakable smile_

* * *

The thirteen-year-old girl standing in front of me would be hot if she weren't thirteen.

She's got long chocolate brown hair, falling in gentle waves to just above her waist. Soft brown eyes and short lashes adorn her face, and her skin is lightly tanned. She's clad in a pink shirt and jean shorts that are almost too short to pass the dress code.

"I'm Nokia."  
"I know," I smile. "Take a seat. We're going to have fun working on solving equations!"

"Yeah, fun," Nokia mutters. "Let me make up my own equation. Math equals the reciprocal of fun."

"If you think like that, you'll never succeed!" I exclaim. "Now. I heard you had some trouble in class today with this equation." As I speak, I pull out a fresh sheet of paper. I write the equation Mr. Grant gave me this morning- _2x+3=5x-9._

"Okay, so do you know how to start?"

Nokia shakes her head and I open my mouth to respond, but the bell signifying that the Reaping will start soon rings right then.

"Oh my gosh, I have to get home! Jenna's gonna kill me!" Nokia exclaims, beginning to pack up her books. "Thanks for helping, Solder. See you later." And with that, she slings her bag over her shoulder and runs out the door.

I just chuckle. Sweeping my hand across the desk, I stand up and grab my own blue knapsack. As I head out the door, I realize how much Nokia reminds me of my brother, Scott.

A bit of backstory first. My dad owns a mechanic repair shop, and my brother, uncle Bryan and I always helped out. I say _helped_ because two of those people don't anymore.

It was a normal day, or so it seemed. Dad, my older brother Scott, and Uncle Bryan were working on repairing cars for the Capitol. I was up front helping customers because I was too young to work under heavy cars. All of a sudden, we heard a huge crash, followed by a scream. My older brother was crushed under the car he was working on. Needless to say, he passed away two days later in the intensive care unit. He was only sixteen, and it's weird to think that I'm older than Scott ever was.

I became the beacon of hope for my parents. Trying to be optimistic all the time was difficult in the wake of Scott's death, but I managed to pull it off for a while. Unfortunately, another tragedy occurred about a year later.

My uncle Bryan was diagnosed with cancer. It's funny in a way, because after the Dark Days, the Capitol developed a vaccine for cancer. Bryan would have been fine, except that the hospital was out of medicine to treat him. They had just run out a day or two before, and his cancer was so far along that he was beyond helping. Bryan passed away at home, peacefully, on the night of his fortieth birthday.

Needless to say, it became increasingly more and more difficult to be my family's light at the end of the tunnel, but I pulled it off. With the help of my father's hard work, we picked ourselves up out of the hole of desperation and became successful again.

I walk into my house and up the stairs to get ready for the Reaping. I just hope it won't be me chosen today, because without me, who will keep my family upbeat?

* * *

 _Frasier Dalmatian, District Three Escort_

"Welcome to the Reaping of the Forty-Seventh Annual Hunger Games. I am the Capitol Representative for District Three, Frasier Dalmatian, but please, call me Fray. Now. Let's start off by Reaping a young lady." My voice booms through the square. As I draw a slip from the bowl, I realize a mistake I've made.

It's only 3:57. I'm three minutes early. Now, I can only pray for the safety of both the Reaped tributes- if they're not here, bad things will happen- and for my own safety. Snow will not be pleased.

Well. I can't stop the Reaping, so I'll just have to drag it out as long as I can. I walk slowly back to the microphone, and read out the name of the Reaped girl.

"Nokia Skypewalker!"

A sob erupts from the thirteen-year-old girl section. Oh, great. I've reaped a little kid! The poor girl is still in her section, but now she's shaking and crying loudly. The Peacekeepers are closing in on the poor kid, and the girls standing around her have backed away. A Peacekeeper grabs her by her arm and begins to drag her up to the stage.

Dressed in a light blue skater dress and gold-colored flats, the girl has long brown hair tied back with a golden bow. The hair is dragging on the ground as she is pulled up to the stage.

"Well, come on up!" I beckon for her to walk to me, and when she does, I take her gently by the arm, leading her to the microphone. "All right. Now, let's Reap the boys."

I draw a slip. "Solder Carvahall!"

The girl's eyes go wide as saucers. Could she know this boy? _They don't have the same last name, and there's no way they're in the same grade,_ I notice when the boys in the seventeen-year-old section part.  
A tall boy dressed in ratty jeans and a gray hoodie that is far too small begins to walk upstage, looking around with wide eyes at the people of his District. Nokia's stopped crying, and she's peering curiously at the boy.

"Shake hands, you two."

Nokia offers the boy a small smile and he replies by going in for a hug. So they do know each other. I lead the two into the Justice Building.

* * *

 _Nokia Skypewalker (District Three Female, age 13)_

* * *

 _Someday I'll be living in a big ole city_

 _And all you're ever gonna be is mean_

 _Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me_

 _And all you're ever gonna be is mean_

* * *

I'm crying on the couch when the door opens. I look up and see the woman I despise walk through the door, followed by my father.

"Dad!" I cry, running into his open arms.

"Hey, Nokia, you're okay. Shhh. It's okay, Nokia. Daddy's here."

Jenna speaks up. "Jakob, speed it up. I have to get home and wash my hair."  
"My daughter has just been Reaped for a deathmatch and you're telling me to hurry my goodbye up? Shut it, Jenna. I know you don't like Nokia, but it's not okay to bully me and her."

I pull away from Dad. "Guards? Can someone take this woman out of here?" I call. The door opens and Jenna is pulled out by a guard clad in white.

"Oh, Nokia," my dad says after the door slams shut once again. "I want you to take this." He fumbles with his left hand, and pulls a small golden band from his ring finger. "It's our engagement ring. To remember me by."

"Thanks, Dad." Tears sting at my eyes again, and they spill onto my face. Dad pulls me into one last hug, and we stay there until the door opens and Dad is pulled out.

"Daddy! Don't go! DADDY!" I collapse on the plush floor, shivering with sobs. I lay there for a while, but-

"Nokia?"

I shake my head, hearing my friend Rosanna's voice. "Rosanna, I'm scared."

She tiptoes up next to me and frowns. "Look at me, Nokia."

I tip my tear-stained face up to meet Rosanna's eyes."Win." she says. Pressing a kiss to my forehead, Rosanna stands up. "I have to go. Stay strong." She wipes a tear from her eye and slowly makes her way out of the room, taking everything I ever cared about with her.

* * *

 _Solder Carvahall (District Three Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _La da da da dee, you're not breaking me_

 _La de da da da, ain't got time for ya, singing_

 _La da da da dee, you won't shatter me_

 _La de da da da, got an unbreakable smile_

* * *

"Solder?" Dad says, and he and Mom rush into the room. "Solder!"

"Dad, I know that girl. You know how my seventh grade teacher had me tutor a little girl today? That's her. I can't kill a thirteen-year-old. She's just a kid!"

"Solder! Stay positive, son! You were our light at the end of the tunnel all these years, now it's our turn to be yours. You can win this. You're older than a lot of kids, you're almost eighteen. You're intelligent, too. You're optimistic, so you'll have a better chance. Mind over matter, son. You've actually got a chance!"

I shake my head. "You're right. I really need to be positive!"

Mom speaks up. "Honey, you have to win. You're all we have left, after Scott..." Her eyes tear up, and she begins to weep. I pull my family into a hug.

When we let go, Dad unclasps something from behind his neck. "Take this," he says, handing it to me.

I hold it up in front of me. It's a golden locket pendant on silver chain. As I unclasp the locket and look inside at the photo of my family before Scott and Uncle Bryan died, my eyes spill over with tears.

"I love you guys," is all I can manage. Then, my family is pulled out of the room by men in white suits.

They look back at me, and Mom says one last thing to me.

"I'm sorry, Solder! I'm sorry for everything!"

I don't know what she means.

* * *

 _Songs: Mean: Taylor Swift; Unbreakable Smile: Tori Kelly_

* * *

 **To clarify, Nokia's theme song is about how Jenna's mean to her.**

 **Hey guys! Uber quick update today, I was feeling the vibes. It also helped that these two came really easily to me.**

 **How do you guys like the idea of Solder being Nokia's tutor? I came up with that :)**

 **Nokia has a bit of backstory I didn't get to. That'll show up later, don't worry.**

 **Regarding Katie's POV last chapter: I understand what you guys are saying. Looking back, I agree. I'll try to do better with Katie, and know that the OPness is not the submitter's fault.**

 **Questions:**

 _Who do you like better, Nokia or Solder? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Nokia?_

 _Thoughts on Solder?_

 _Predictions?_

 **See you all soon! Thanks for reading :)**


	6. Chapter 6: D4 Reapings

_Abalone "Abby" Rhinehart (Age 17, District 4 Female)_

* * *

 _So you can throw me to the wolves_

 _Tomorrow I will come back_

 _Leader of the whole pack_

 _Beat me black and blue_

 _Every wound will shape me,_

 _Every scar will build my throne._

* * *

Cold, clear water splashes over me, soaking my hair and clothes. I poke my head out from under the flow, taking a deep breath. Then, I pull my head back under the water.

I love it here. This small waterfall on the outskirts of the main city of District Four is really the only place I can go to escape the crazy hustle and bustle of my home and school. It's my refuge, my sanctuary.

I poke my head back out from underwater. The sound of the rushing of the creek fills my ears.

Birds chirp. A bell sounds.

Wait. A bell. That means the Reaping is here. I hop up as quickly as humanly possible, stepping on stones and almost falling into the water of the creek multiple times. Not that it'd be a big deal- I, like many others from Four, am a strong swimmer and can hold my breath upwards of four minutes.

Racing down the street and over the bridge, I shudder. This bridge brings back bad memories, of my brother and of…

Archer. The name itself, a reminder of the days gone by.

Let me explain. I was born to a single mother, and no one knows what happened to my dad. In a twisted turn of events, my mother died right after I was born. I was raised by one of the nurses at the hospital. This Mrs. Grotto Rhineheart and her husband, Brine, were very kind to me, loving me and treating me like their own daughter. Their son, Kelp, was the same way, loving and kind, like a real brother.

I'm a bossy girl, I'll admit it. I also don't have a filter, so things come out that I don't mean sometimes. This makes it really hard for me to make any friends. I used to be bullied, and it was pretty bad.

One day a few years ago- I must have been fourteen or fifteen- I was walking home from school. These bullies followed me. One in particular, a girl named Archer, was getting on my nerves. Calling me names, she hit and punched me, until it finally got to a turning point. She was fed up with my unresponsiveness to her bullying. I was fed up with her.

She said something about my brother- I can't remember what exactly, but it had to have been pretty bad- and I lost it. I pushed her off the bridge.

Archer fell, screaming. The fall killed her instantly. I ran straight home, to Kelp. Blinded with fear and guilt, I recklessly told Kelp everything. He promised not to tell anyone, and even began to teach me the skills he'd been learning in the Academy to protect myself if anything ever happened again. The guilt of Archer's death still haunts me, though I've never been convicted.

I jump up the stairs to my house, a small, one-story home. Opening the door, I walk down the hall to my bedroom. As I pick out a nice purple dress with the sides cut out and put it on, I hear my brother changing in his room. It's his last year in the Reaping bowl, but I know he won't be volunteering- some kid named Aqui is. I dry off my wet hair as best I can with a spare towel, then pull back the wavy red locks with a headband the same color of my dress.

"Abby!" I hear my brother's voice call. "Are you ready to go?"

"Almost!" I holler. Heading out the door, I take a deep breath. _I won't be Reaped._

And I won't. I have taken no tesserae, and I have only the slips that are required for my age. The odds are certainly in my favor today.

* * *

 _Aqui Schmidt (District 4 Male, Age 18)_

* * *

 _Because I'm doing this for the thrill of it, killin' it_

 _Never not chasing a million things I want_

 _And I am only as young as the minute is full of it_

 _Getting pumped up from the little bright things I bought_

* * *

"Smile, Aqui!"

I plaster a bright grin on my face, turning to face the cameras. _Flash._

"Perfect shot!" The voice of Cress, my photographer, is chill. She waves me off the stool, where I'd been modeling the newest line of fashion in Four. New trends always come out around this time of year. That means I have to be at the modeling agency almost twenty-four seven.

"All right, let's get a shot of you and this nice new shirt," Cress tells me as she hands me the dark gray garment. "Go change! And quick, we only have ten minutes before you have to go to the Reapings."

The Reapings. Oh, right. I'm volunteering today. Normally, I could care less about the Reapings, and only go because it's mandatory, but since the modeling agency wanted more publicity and asked me to go in, I kind of need to be there today.

I've been training since I was fifteen for this day. That was when the agency asked my parents to let me go, and they naturally said yes. Four's a Career District, so I'd have good, strong allies, and I'd be able to train beforehand. So here I am now, at my final modeling shoot before I leave for the Capitol.

I slip the gray shirt over my head, then walk out to the center of the room again. Cress's changed the background to a paper printed like a brick wall, and I take my spot in front of it.

"All right, I'm ready," I say with a grin that hopefully looks sexy. That's the other thing. I have a crush on Cress. Who wouldn't? With her long, russet hair and clear sea-blue eyes, she's certainly got boys lined up out the door of her house and onto the street.

"Face!"

I comply, changing my sexy smile to a serious-looking expression. _Flash._

After the camera flashes a couple more times, Cress looks at me with a serious expression.

"You know I really think you'll win, right, Aqui?"

"I know you think that, but will it really happen? I'll just have to see." I reply with a glance over my shoulder to where Flore, another model, is seated. "Should I go? I mean, if I'm volunteering today, I'd better look my best."

"I agree. Why don't you tell Flore and Cove that it's time to go? I'm sure they don't want to be late either."

I nod. "Okay."  
Cress smiles. "I'll be coming to see you off, naturally. I bet Flore will want to come. Your parents and sister will be there as well? That's three, am I missing anyone?"

"Can't think of anyone."  
"Good! I'll see you after the Reaping, then?"

"Yeah." I reply. I sling my bag over my shoulder, then tap on Flore's shoulder.

She whirls around. "What?"

"Chill. It's time to go. Wanna walk with me?" I ask.

"Sure!" Flore replies. "Let me grab my bag, and then I'll be ready."

I step aside, letting her pick up the bag. As we head out the doors, Flore begins to chatter on about the Reaping, trying to think of who possibly could be the female tribute.

"Of course, we all know you'll be volunteering, but I heard that the Academy's chosen volunteer broke her arm in training, so maybe the Reaped girl will actually go to the Games for once," she says.

"I hope it's not some ghetto kid, since they never have any training. If I have to go into the Games with some little kid with no training, I'll scream."

She giggles. "Hm. Well, we're at your house now. Bye, Aqui,"

I give a little wave and walk up to the door. I have to go pretty myself up now.

* * *

 _Bubble Sandser, District Four Escort_

* * *

I hate my job.

Yeah. You read that right. When I was twenty, maybe things were different. I loved the Games, I loved President Snow. But now, his son's in power, I'm forty-three, and the games have been worse and worse every year. I can barely imagine what will happen at the Quell in a few years.

The kids, oh, the kids. Almost every year it's a new pair of two trained tributes, capable and strong. Almost every year, it's a new pair of two black coffins, stiff and cold. Every once in awhile, we'll get a Victor, but it's not as common as One or Two.

It's that time of year again. In fact, it's that day again. I'm sitting on the stage, waiting for the kids to file neatly into their respective pens. _Two of these kids are going to die,_ I think to myself as the clock chimes. It's time to start.

I stand up, walking to the mike. I clear my throat.  
"Welcome to the 47th Hunger Games!" I say, plastering a fake smile on my face. "First, let us Reap a young lady for the honor of participating in the Games." I dip my hand into the bowl, grabbing the first slip I come into contact with. The crowd's unusually quiet. Is there no volunteer this year or something?

"Abalone Rhineheart!" I chirp into the mike.

A scream erupts from the seventeen-year-olds, and a tall redheaded girl, clad in a flattering purple dress and sandals, nearly falls over. I beckon for her. "Come on up, young one!"

She is wobbling all over the place now, and the Peacekeepers, having located the girl, walk up briskly to escort her to the stage. As she stands on the stage, she nearly falls over once more.

"Someone grab this girl a chair," I say, concerned. The mayor stands up and brings the chair to the trembling seventeen-year-old, who takes a seat slowly.

"All right, now shall we Reap a young man?" I say. As I reach into the bowl and open my mouth, a call sounds over the square.

"I volunteer!" A very tall boy, almost a man, walks confidently out of the eighteens. The first thing I notice is that he carries himself very well. The next thing is his tall, distinct cheekbones.

He walks up the stairs, and when I tilt the mike toward him, he speaks in a flat tone. "Aqui Schmidt."

"District Four, your tributes! Abalone Rhineheart and Aqui Schmidt!"

* * *

 _Abalone "Abby" Rhinehart (Age 17, District 4 Female)_

* * *

 _So you can throw me to the wolves_

 _Tomorrow I will come back_

 _Leader of the whole pack_

 _Beat me black and blue_

 _Every wound will shape me,_

 _Every scar will build my throne._

* * *

 _I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

Those are my only thoughts as I sit on the green plush couch in the Tribute Room. I don't even notice when my brother and parents walk into the room.

"Abby, come here, girl." Kelp says. I look up at my brother with teary eyes, then shut them as he pulls me into a hug. The warmth of Kelp's body makes me feel slightly better, more at home.

"Abby. Hey, it's okay. You're gonna win,"  
says my dad

"And even if I do, I won't be me. I'll have killed kids. Kids, Dad! I can't hurt a little kid!"

Kelp laughs.

"Kelp! There's nothing funny about this."  
"You've killed before, Abby. Remember Archer? You can totally win this. I've trained you myself. You will win."

"That was different. Archer was a bully, and she wasn't twelve, either!"

"Avoid the younger kids, then!" Kelp says, as if that's a solution.

"Time!" A Peacekeeper walks into the room, pulling my parents and Kelp out the door with him. I scream.

"Abby! I love you!" Kelp calls, before the door is slammed. I can't help but wonder. Is Kelp right? Do I have a chance?

My next guests are my best friends, Pearl and Zephyr. They run into the room crying, and I open my arms. They crash into me.

We all just stay there, hugging. Not a word is uttered. The only sound in the room is sobbing. As the Peacekeeper walks back in, I scream. "No, no! Don't take them!"

Pearl and Zephyr are ripped from me by the man in the white suit. The door slams once more with a bang, and I plop on the couch. I sit and cry until I am roughly grabbed by the arm and made to stand, led to the door by a Peacekeeper.

 _Goodbye, District Four._

* * *

 _Aqui Schmidt (District 4 Male, Age 18)_

* * *

 _Because I'm doing this for the thrill of it, killin' it_

 _Never not chasing a million things I want_

 _And I am only as young as the minute is full of it_

 _Getting pumped up from the little bright things I bought_

* * *

A knock at the door sounds, and I stand up. Fixing my shirt, I open the door. Flore is standing there, dressed in a flowy blue skirt and a white tank top, and she looks very attractive. Almost as much as Cress.

"Hey, Flore," I say.

"Aqui!" she exclaims, rushing toward me. "Hey! Promise me you'll come back, okay? I have to see you again."  
"You will, Flore. I will make it through those Games, you'll see!" I reassure her.

"Oh good. I have to go soon. I have so much to do, and since you're not going to be a model anymore- at least during the Games- I have even more work."  
"Oh," I say. "Okay. Well, Flore, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah," she replies. "See you, Aqui."

She walks out of the room and is replaced almost instantly by my mother and father, along with my sister Aqua. They saunter into the room proudly, and Aqua hugs me.

"You have to win," she says.

"Oh, I will," I reply. "With these good looks and my weapon skills, the sponsors will be flooding in. There's no way I won't become the 47th Victor of the Hunger Games!"

My mom and dad hug me. "Be safe, Aqui, dear," Mom says.

"And come back to us," Dad adds. "We've got to go, but we'll be watching you. Good luck, Aqui!"

The next visitor is Cress, as promised. She walks into the room with a smug look on her face. Dressed in a light pink sundress, she looks angelic.

"Hey, Cress!"

"Aqui," she replied, acknowledging me with a polite nod. "Win, okay? I've got a new camera just _begging_ to be used. I have to go take pictures of the newest twelve-year-old model, so I gotta go."

I nod. "I'll miss you, Cress. See you later!" She walks out of the room, and I sit on the couch once more. I fiddle with my shirt until the Peacekeeper walks in and motions for me to follow him.

This is going to be so much fun.

* * *

 _Songs used: Tennis Court- Lorde; Throne, Bring Me The Horizon_

* * *

 **Four down, eight to go!**

 **Hey guys! What's up? I'm sorry this update took, like, forever. Standardized testing is happening right now, so school's very stressful and I could barely find time to write. Anyway, enough about me! How did you all like the chapter? I feel like Aqui wasn't written very well…**

 **Also, I just want to remind you guys to review. I have a few people who haven't reviewed, I think, and the reviews both boost my confidence and help make chapters better for everyone. I want to say that I'm going to be adopting the rule many SYOT authors have- if you don't review, your tribute** _ **will not**_ **win. I'm not going to base it all on reviewing, and I don't mind if you miss a chapter or two. Heck, if you don't want to review one day, don't! I totally understand! I'm a lazy reviewer myself! The point of this paragraph is that if you don't review, your tribute will not be the Victor. Just letting you know.**

 **Now that that overly selfish paragraph is over, I'd like to ask you all some questions:**

 _Who do you like better, Abby or Aqui? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Abby?_

 _Thoughts on Aqui?_

 _Predictions?_

 **See you all later! Thank you for reading, and thank you so much for 55 reviews! Mwah!**


	7. Chapter 7: D5 Reapings

_Camilla Hendricks (District Five Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _I ponder of something terrifying_

 _'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind_

 _I find over the course of our human existence_

 _One thing consists of consistence_

 _And it's that we're all battling fear_

* * *

"Camilla, get over here!" Antonette's voice calls, through the din of the lunchroom. She waves her arm back and forth through the air.

I smile and carry my loaded lunch tray to where Antonette sits. "Hey, Anteater," I tease.

Antonette whacks me, making me almost drop my food. "Dang it, Camilla. Don't call me Anteater! I've told you that!"

I giggle. "Right." Setting the tray on the table, I sit down next to my friend. Antonette's a sweet girl, but she's got a hard shell that I had to crack to become her friend. Thankfully, I did, because with my luck and bad social skills, I'd be friendless without Antonette.

I used to have a really good friend. Actually, she was my twin sister. _Nicoline Hendricks, the best friend I'll ever have,_ I used to tease her. She and I were practically joined at the hip. Nicoline was lazy and uncaring, but she was always really kind towards me and her other friends. We were best friends until fourth grade, when we were ten.

At that point, being the lazy kid she was, Nicoline dropped out of school. I stayed in, because I dreamed- and still dream- of becoming a rich scientist. My parents, though they'd been happy together before, started arguing over Nicoline. I remember those fights so well. Mom would hit Dad, he'd hit her back, verbal abuse was used, and it was all over Nicoline. Mom and Dad eventually realized the best course of action was to be divorced. That's what they did.

Dad took Nicoline and all the money, Mom kept me and the house. Dad and my twin sister moved far away, clear to the other side of District Five. I haven't seen Dad since, but on occasion, I catch a glimpse of Nicoline. Her dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes, her practical clothing, her tanned face. I miss it all.

"Camilla! Earth to Camilla!" Antonette snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I was saying, maybe we should go back to class. The bell's gonna ring in a few seconds, anyway, so why wait?"

"Yeah. Sure," I say. We stand up, my tray barely touched while Antonette's is basically licked clean.

"You gonna eat that cookie?" Antonette asks, pointing at a chocolate cookie on top of my half-eaten turkey sandwich. She could eat it, or I could, or I could throw it away. I think I'll let her have it.

"Go ahead," I say, waving my hand dismissively. She beams, picking the cookie up and sticking it in her mouth.

A loud crackle alerts all of us students in the hallway that the principal's about to speak. We all stop moving almost as one, studying the speaker and waiting for the words.

"Go home. The Reapings start soon."

We all cheer at the "go home", then sigh at the "the Reapings start soon". Antonette turns on her heel, grabbing my hand and marching out of the building.

"Walk me home?" she asks.

I consider this. What if I'm late getting home? Then, I'd end up late for the Reapings too! But what if Antonette's mom gave me a cookie? She is known to do that.

"I can't. We only have a half hour till the Reapings start. You should go home."

Disappointed, Antonette nods. "Fine. I'll see you at the Reapings!"

I smile. "Bye, Anteater!"

She rolls her eyes playfully and walks away. I walk in the opposite direction, towards my home. The District has basically come to a standstill- no one's at the schools, the power plants are shut down, and I'm the only one on the small side street. We're all waiting.

Waiting to watch two of our children die.

* * *

 _Solario Thunders (District Five Male, age 12)_

* * *

 _Gonna fly now_

 _Flying high now_

 _Gonna fly, fly, fly_

* * *

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Madison, my best friend, asks nervously. "It's Reaping Day, Solario. I don't want to get in trouble."

"Aw, Mads, you're absolutely no fun! Look. It's just a prank. Mom will love it!" I insist, twirling the air horn in my hand.

"Well, if you're sure…" she mumbles.

I giggle. "Positive. Let's go. Got the tape?"

Madison nods. "Check!"

"All right!" I exclaim.

Sneaking up to Mom's room only takes about five minutes, less than usual because Diana's still asleep. Madison and I woke up extra early today to prank Mom. In fact, it's so early that it's still dark out and I had to bring a flashlight to pick Madison up from her house.

Pushing a finger to my lips and beginning to tiptoe, I carefully open Mom's door. It creaks a bit as it opens, and I stop, but Mom and Dad are still fast asleep. Madison hands me the duct tape we'd torn off from the roll, and I measure for exactly where the air horn should go. I place the air horn on the wall, sticking out so that when Mom opens the door, she presses the button and blasts it off!

Taping the horn to the wall is by far the hardest part of this whole endeavor. As soon as it's firmly attached, I grab Madison's hand and lead her out of the room, closing the door behind us.

We go downstairs and begin to laugh. Madison starts off giggling, and it spreads from there. We're doubled over laughing, anticipating what happens next, when a huge blast of noise explodes from the hall- _BLAAAAAARP!_

Of course, this only makes us laugh harder. Mom's shocked voice calls down the hall. "SOLARIO!"

I motion for Madison to go home, I certainly don't want her to get in trouble with Mom. She dashes out of the room with only a glance over her shoulder, to which I give a small wave.

I walk up the stairs. "Yes, Mother?" I say, putting on my puppy-dog face. This is standard-issue. Mom discovers the prank and calls me, I deny it, then she pulls me into a bear hug and begins to tickle me. I've actually begun to lose the feeling I get when she tickles me.

"Solario, did you do that?"

I shake my head, still wearing my puppy face. Mom looks at me suspiciously, then pulls me into the standard hug and starts the tickles. "Oh, dear. What will I ever do with you, Solario?"

"Ummm, tickle me, obviously," I say in between giggles.

Mom sets me down, and gives me a stern look. "How in the world did you make that noise?"

"Look behind your door," I reply, still giggling.

Mom steps into her room, looking behind her door, and noticing the air horn duct taped to the wall. "Oh, my!" she gasps. "Solario! You really outdid yourself! Where in the world did you even get that horn?"

"A true magician never reveals his secrets," I say proudly.

"That's right, Solario, but you're not a magician," she points out.

 _She's got me there._ "I got it from the store! I've been saving up my allowance for weeks," I explain.

Mom shakes her head in disbelief. "Go get ready for the Reaping, dear. It's in fifteen minutes."

I nod, and Mom ruffles my hair. I walk down the hall, towards my room, and go inside. I smile in the mirror, and a small blonde boy smiles back.

 _I won't be Reaped._

And yet, I still have a very bad feeling about today.

* * *

 _Hilaria Idina, District Five Escort_

* * *

Today is my first day as an Escort, and to tell you the truth, I'm nervous.

I know it'll be fun, meeting the Tributes beforehand, and especially spending days with them. I love kids, and it made me really sad when Doctor Ambus told me I'd never have any of my own. This or teaching is the next best thing.

The clock chimes, and I rise from my seat, note cards in hand. I wipe my sweaty palms on my long, peacock-colored dress. Walking to the microphone, I take a good look at the citizens of Five. They, as a whole, are quite skinny, and many are blonde or black-haired, though the occasional redhead shines through the crowd.

"Welcome! I'm Hilaria, and I'll be your Escort this year. Let's draw a girl first." I dip my hand into the bowl, pull out a slip, then read out the name written on it. "Camilla Hendricks!"

A tall girl with dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes walks out of the fourteens. She looks very calm at first, then I take a closer look and see that her blue school uniform is shaking, as is she. She mounts the steps, carefully.

"Welcome! All right, now for the boys."

I plunge my hand into the other bowl, and grab the first slip I see. "Solario Thunders!"

A boy in the twelves bursts into tears. _Oh my gosh, two little kids!_ Peacekeepers begin to march to the boy and grab him by the wrists, then drag him to the stage. He simply faints.

"Get a chair!" I whisper urgently to the mayor, who stands and brings his chair to the boy, who is placed in the chair by the Peacekeepers. Camilla looks horrified by this whole spectacle.

"District Five, your Tributes! Camilla Hendricks and Solario Thunders!"

* * *

 _Camilla Hendricks (District Five Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _I ponder of something terrifying_

 _'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind_

 _I find over the course of our human existence_

 _One thing consists of consistence_

 _And it's that we're all battling fear_

* * *

 _That poor boy. I can't believe he fainted. I really hope he's okay._

I'm thinking about my District partner, when the door opens and Antonette bursts in. "Camilla!" she cries. "Oh my gosh, I should have volunteered!"

"No, you shouldn't. I'm glad you didn't," I insist, fighting the tears. We hug. "Look at me." I say. "I'm coming back. You don't have to worry."

"Camilla, I'll miss you while you're gone. But I trust you, and I believe you'll come back."

"I love you, Anteater." Antonette doesn't even hit me, like I thought she would. Instead, she hugs me.

The Peacekeeper storms into the room, pulling Antonette off me. I fall to the floor and weep, staying there until the door opens again. Mom walks in.

"Hey, darling."

I scowl. "Mom, why did you and Dad have to divorce? I haven't seen Nicolette in years and it's your fault." As soon as the words are out, I regret them.

She looks very startled. I point at the door. "Go. I don't want to see you. You took my sister away from me. GO!"

Mom looks at me, her eyes begging me to take it back. I lay my head on my arms, crying. The door slams.

 _What have I done?_

* * *

 _Solario Thunders (District Five Male, age 12)_

* * *

 _Gonna fly now_

 _Flying high now_

 _Gonna fly, fly, fly_

* * *

I wake up to see my mother's concerned, tear-stained face peering into my eyes.

"Oh, Solario!" she crows, pulling me into a hug. I accept the hug, and when she sets me down, I look at her and smile. I don't want her last memory of me to be tear-filled and sad.

"Well, I suppose this is goodbye. Diana, you take care of Mom and Dad, okay? Mom, give Madison my prank set and Radar my clothes. Dad, I need you to stay strong." I look at each person in turn, smiling my last.

Mom looks horrified. "Don't tell me you've given up already?!"

"Mom, there's not a chance for me in the Arena. Have you seen those Careers? I've accepted my death. I just need you all to do the same."

Diana's in tears, as is Dad, and Mom looks close to it.

"Time!" calls the Peacekeeper. Pulling my family away, he slams the door.

I place my head in my hands, staying in said position until Madison and Radar walk into the room. Radar, the best friend of my ten-year-old sister Diana, trails Madison as she rushes in. "Look, we've got a single minute. Solario, I need you to promise me you'll try to win."

"I'll try," I sigh. "I'm not gonna make it, but I'll try."

We all hug, and they pull away when the Peacekeeper opens the door. I wave.

"I'll miss you!"

* * *

 _Songs: Car Radio: Twenty One Pilots; Gonna Fly Now: Bill Conti_

* * *

 **Hey hey hey! I'm really glad to get this chapter out, even though it's short (sorry!) cause it means there's only 7 more Reapings! Woo!**

 **So. Ignore the really bad timing errors in this- yes, I do realize Solario's POV takes place like 5 hours before Camilla's. Oh well.**

 **Anyway! Questions!**

 _Who do you like better, Camilla or Solario?_

 _Thoughts on Camilla?_

 _Thoughts on Solario?_

 _Predictions?_

 **Have a great day!**


	8. Chapter 8: D6 Reapings

_Kiara Geoffrey (District Six Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _Don't let me get me_

 _I'm my own worst enemy_

 _It's bad when you annoy yourself_

 _So irritating_

* * *

The teacher of my eighth grade Panemian History class drones on and on about the Dark Days, and how the Hunger Games were a great solution to all the country's problems. Half the class is nearly sleeping, I notice as I look around. The drooping eyes and half-open mouths of my classmates confirm my thoughts- yes, I'll be able to pull out a book and read without being caught!

I pull out the book I've been working on for the past couple days, a fantasy one called _Girls of the Elements_. Quietly, I turn to the page I'd marked with a scrap of pink paper, and am swept away into the world of Princess Ria and her Girls of the Elements.

" _Fay Valkyrie of Gurmad, I name you a Girl of the Elements." Princess Ria dipped a small aspen branch into a glass vial of what Fay knew was saltwater, then touched Fay's face with the branch. She motioned for Fay to stand in a small patch of sunlight, and as the crisp wind blew Fay's long blond hair over her face, Ria lowered the aspen branch into a small fire, set for the ceremony specifically. Ria blew gently on the flame to put it out, and drew a small design onto Fay's cheek with the charcoal on the stick._

 _BRRRRRRRRRRRRING!_

The school bell snaps me out of my fantasy book world, and the teacher puts down her yardstick. "Go to the Reapings, children," she says. "Remember, there will be a quiz on Thursday!"

I begin to pack up my book, annoyed that I never got to finish reading about the Ceremony for Fay, when Denver calls to me from the other side of the room.

"Kiara! Come on!" he shouts. The popular girls all titter and a few of the boys giggle, no doubt whispering about _Kiara and Denver, sitting in a tree!_

I shoot a death glare over my shoulder, and make my way to Denver.

"Hey," I say.

"What's up?" he asks. "I saw you reading today, what's your book about?"

"It's called _Girls of the Elements_ ," I say proudly. "It's about this group of girls who have powers to control the elements."

"Sounds cool," Denver replies. I smile. Denver is my best- and pretty much only- friend at school, and he's the one who always stands up against my half-sister, Kadelyn.

Kadelyn. She's the biggest bully I know, worse even than the most popular girls at school. She picks on me almost constantly. What makes it worse is that we live together.

My dad isn't Kadelyn's actual father. Said actual father was never around to help take care of Kadelyn, so Mom got into an affair with my dad. When Kadelyn's dad found out, he was furious, and the two divorced. Mom got full custody of Kadelyn.

Kadelyn hates my dad. She blames him for all her problems behind his back, but she takes her anger out on me.

Denver and I have been walking in silence for a while now, and we're to my house. I smile at him.

"Thanks for walking me home," I say. He nods and smiles, then waves and takes off. I run up the steps and into my house. Once inside, I head into the room that I (sadly) share with Kadelyn. All the more reason for her to tease me, right?

"Hey, Kadelyn," I murmur, seeing that she's sitting on her bed eating a sandwich.

"I saw you walking home with your boyfriend, what's up with him?" Kadelyn accuses.

"He's not my boyfriend," I mutter under my breath as I pull the T-shirt I've been wearing over my head and slipping on a plain blue dress.

"Riiight," Kadelyn stands up. "Well, missy, I'm going to the Reapings. You better hope you don't get chosen. Good luck!"

Yeah. Good luck. Thanks, Kadelyn.

* * *

 _Jack McArthy (District Six Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _So keep on climbing, though the ground might shake_

 _Just keep on reaching, though the limb might break_

 _We've come this far, don't you be scared now_

 _'Cause you can learn to fly on the way down_

* * *

I wake up to feel Alyssa, my girlfriend, shaking me.

"Jack. Jack, wake up! The Reapings are in an hour. Jack!"  
"Hrrrrgmh?" I groan. I look up into the tanned face of my amazing girlfriend. She's struggling to shake me even gently, because her large belly is basically crashing into the side of the bed. And no, we aren't rich and fat, or even remotely close to it. Alyssa's nine months pregnant.

"Get _up_ , Jack! I've been up for hours. You have to get up. The Reapings are in an hour, and you still need to get dressed. I'm gonna go eat the sandwich I packed last night. Don't go back to sleep."

She walks off- actually, more like _waddles-_ and I roll over. Running a hand through my ash blonde hair, I sit up in bed. Looking around, I see the small apartment Alyssa and I have rented for a while, or at least until we can get a better house and I can land a job somewhere.I'm honestly aiming for the child care place because I love kids. I love to play catch with the little boys, and the expression on a little girl's face when I hand her a doll is amazing.

Standing up, I walk to the mirror. I wash off my face and stare into the mirror. Tall, blonde, greenish-hazel eyes speckled with a golden brown, and the vibe given off from someone who hasn't showered in a couple days. I've gotta do that, but I figure it can wait another hour until after the Reapings. I know I won't be Reaped. Even though it's my second-to-last year and I've taken quite a bit of tesserae over the years, Six is such a large District that it's highly unlikely.

After today, I'll only have to survive one more Reaping. Then, Alyssa and I will have our happy little family, me and her and Molly or Danny. That's what we've taken to calling the child- and we've agreed that one of the names will be the child's name. Molly for a girl, Danny for a boy.

"Jack!" Alyssa's voice rings through the apartment. "Are you dressed? I don't want to be late."

I smile. "Almost done, honey." I call.

Bustling through the small room, I pick out a tan shirt and black trousers. After putting them on, I walk out to the kitchen.

Alyssa smiles at me as I walk in. She pats her belly. "I can't wait. We'll be parents!"

"I know. I just am so stressed out about it, though, like, how are we going to pay for a child? I know, I know. I don't need to be stressed- we have plenty of money and there's always tesserae. But what if...?"

"That's not my optimistic Jack," she frowns. "We'll be fine."

I sigh. "Okay. Whatever happens today, I just want to let you know I love you."

She pecks me on the cheek. "Love you too, Jack."

"We should go. Did you get a sandwich?"  
"I did. Did you?"

"Not yet. I should probably bring one along, huh?"

"Mhmm." Alyssa agrees. "Go grab one and we'll go."

Sprinting into the kitchen, I grab a slice of bread, a couple slices of cheese and ham, and spread some mayonnaise onto the bread. I place the cheese and ham onto the bread, then fold it in half. Yay, fast sandwiches!

I walk back out to see Alyssa. "Ready?"

She nods. "Jack, I'm nervous."

"You don't need to be. I won't be chosen. And you're safe already,"I murmur into her as we walk out the door.

"Mmm," she smiles.

It's at that moment that I realize that this is truly where I belong. Right next to my girlfriend, head on her shoulder, hand in hand.

I never want to leave.

* * *

 _Amarantha Greckett, District Six Escort_

* * *

As the clock chimes, I walk to the microphone.

"Hellllllo, District SIx! Isn't it such a pleasant morning to choose two tributes in this year's Hunger Games?" Polite applause. Nothing major, though, and I frown. "Now. Why can't you all be more enthusiastic?" I harrumph and make my way to the girls' bowl. "Let's start with a young lady." I dip in my hand, locking my eyes onto a very specific slip. I pull out that slip, and walk back to my perch in front of the mike.

Clearing my throat, I announce the name written on the slip. "Kiara Geoffrey!"

A yelp goes up from the boys' fourteen-year-old section. Confusing, seeing as I've Reaped the girl first…

"Kiara? Don't be shy, miss Kiara. Come on up."

A small girl, thin and dressed in a light blue dress, shuffles out of the section. Fear and dread are apparent in the girl's face, which is framed by brown locks. Her dark brown eyes are large and round.

"All right. Now, to Reap a boy!" I walk to the boys' bowl, pulling a slip off the top of the mound. "Jack McArthy!"

A scream from the parent's section is followed by a spoken "calm down, Alyssa, he'll be okay." A very tall boy from the seventeens dressed in a stylish tan shirt and black trousers is herded up to the stage by Peacekeepers, and though he's crying, he tries to flash the crowd a tearful half-smile.

"District Six, your tributes! Kiara Geoffrey and Jack McArthy!"

* * *

 _Kiara Geoffrey (District Six Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _Don't let me get me_

 _I'm my own worst enemy_

 _It's bad when you annoy yourself_

 _So irritating_

* * *

Mom is my first visitor, accompanied by Dad and Kaden, my younger brother. "Kia!" they exclaim as they rush into the room.

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh." Mom panics, shaking like a leaf. Kaden rushes into my arms. Dad places a hand on Mom's shoulder. Everyone's in tears.

I'm trying my hardest not to just tell everyone to _shut up, already_! They can be so annoying sometimes.

"Kiara, promise me you'll try to win."

"I will try, but there's no way it'll happen. If you could, I'd like you all to not let Kadelyn in. She's a bully to me. I know you haven't noticed and I'm not mad, but just don't let her in."

"What? Kadelyn is a bully?" Dad says, looking very oblivious to the bruises that are slightly exposed under my dress sleeves.  
"Mhmm." I say through my tears. "Just don't let her in, okay?"

Mom nods. I thank her, smiling a teary smile.

Kaden shoots up out of my grasp. "Kia, take my bracelet. For a token." He slips it onto my wrist.I smile at him.

"Thanks, buddy. Love you."  
The Peacekeeper pokes his head in the door. "Time." My family tearfully lets go of me. They walk out of the door after a quick "love you" and hug from everyone.

Denver comes in next. He sits on the couch next to me, and we talk strategy the whole time. Eventually, Denver wraps me in a hug.

"I will miss you, Kia. Don't die." With that, he hops up and leaves. I begin to cry all over again as he leaves.

Why is the world this cruel?

* * *

 _Jack McArthy (District Six Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _So keep on climbing, though the ground might shake_

 _Just keep on reaching, though the limb might break_

 _We've come this far, don't you be scared now_

 _'Cause you can learn to fly on the way down_

* * *

Alyssa rushes into the room as fast as she can. "Jaaaaack!" she wails. "Don't go!

"I have to, Lissy, but before I go, I have to ask you something." I reach into my pocket, pulling out the thing I'd stashed in my pocket before I'd gone to bed yesterday. I kneel down on one knee, opening the container.

"Lissy, if- when- I make it home, will you be my one and only? Will you love me?" I swallow. "Alyssa, will you marry me?"

Alyssa's had flies to her mouth. "Of course. Of course I will, Jack."

We go for an awkward hug, then move closer for a kiss. It's hard because Alyssa's so large, but we manage.

When the Peacekeeper walks in, he has to literally drag her away from me, wailing. I sit down with head in hands, waiting until Mom and Dad walk in.

They don't ask many questions. Wrapping me in a bear hug, Mom just whispers in my ear.

"Did you do it?"

I nod. Dad smiles. "I'm proud of you, son. Win, okay?"

"I will try." I promise. "I love you guys.

As they walk out of the door, I see that Alyssa had dropped her necklace. I pick it up. This will be my token.

* * *

Songs Used: Don't Let Me Get Me: P!ink; Fly: Maddie and Tae

* * *

 **Halfway there! I have to keep this short, sorry… Questions!**

 _Who do you like better, Kiara or Jack?_

 _Thoughts on Kiara?_

 _Thoughts on Jack?_

 _Predictions?_

 **See you all later! Thank you all so much for 86 reviews! Love you!**


	9. Chapter 9: D7 Reapings

**Aino's second POV is a bit confusing, but all is explained in the A/N. Read it, please. Mwah.**

* * *

 _Aino Tamminen (District Seven Female, age 12)_

* * *

 _What doesn't kill you makes you stronger_

 _Stand a little taller_

 _Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone_

 _What doesn't kill you makes a fighter_

 _Footsteps even lighter_

 _Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone_

* * *

Right now, I hate my mother.

She's locked me in the house again, alone with Milla. Now, being alone with Milla isn't a _bad_ thing, necessarily. I do, however, hate the fact that whenever my parents go anywhere, be it to the store, to the library or even out to work in the yard, they leave me holed up in my bedroom, with no one and nothing to entertain me except my friend's older cousin. They're so overprotective.

Milla Kallas, the hired girl and my former best friend's cousin, stands in the doorway, arms full of dirty laundry. "Aino," she says, "come help me with the laundry."

"How come?" I reply.

Milla sighs. "Aino, aren't you terribly bored over there? You're literally watching paint dry."

"I'm not bored, just annoyed," I say. "I can't believe Mom locked me in the house again. I can take care of myself. My parents just don't understand."

"Here. How about this. If you help me with the laundry, I'll pass Marjatta a message for you. Then, after the Reapings, we can work on that blanket you started yesterday," Milla proposes.

I take a deep breath. "Fine." With that, I stand up and walk to where Milla stands.

She drops the laundry on the floor. "Fold or put away?"

"I'll put it away."

"Cool." She kneels down, picking a skirt from the top of the pile. "Want to hear a story? It's funny,"

I nod as she hands me the folded skirt. After I put it in the drawer, I walk back to the pile.

Milla begins the story as we work. "Once upon a time, there lived a man. He lived on a tall mountain, all alone. His house had been inherited from his great-uncle a few weeks before. One day, the man was quietly reading, minding his own business, when the telephone rang. When the man answered his phone, a voice said, 'I am the Vinder Viper, and I'll be there in a week.' The man was very frightened because he didn't know who the Vinder Viper was. He asked all around town, but no one could tell him about the Vinder Viper.

"The next week, the man got a phone call again. He answered the phone and the voice on the other end said, 'I am the Vinder Viper, and I'll be there tomorrow.' Then, without another word, the phone hung up. The man was extremely scared now, but he went to bed and woke up the next day. He called the Peacekeepers when he woke up.

"Later that day, the man heard a knock at the door. He grabbed a broomstick and went to answer the door. He opened his door a crack, and said, 'Is that the Peacekeepers?' The answer? 'No, it is the Vinder Viper. I come every month to vash and vipe your vindows."

I giggle. "Milla, that's silly!"

Milla laughs. "Yes, dear. Now, take this and put it on. It's nearly time to leave for the Reapings." She hands me a cream-colored skirt with flowers on it, black shoes, and a white blouse. I walk to the bathroom and slip off the green shirt and jeans I'd been wearing. I pull the white blouse over my head and the skirt on, then stuff my feet into the shoes.

Milla knocks at the door. "Aino, would you like me to braid your hair?"

"Yeah."

She steps inside the room, and I hand her a brush. She brushes out my hair and begins to braid. As she works on my hair, I think about the Reapings.

 _It won't be me. It can't be me. It's my first year. On the slip will not be the words Aino Tamminen. I will be safe another year._

And those words are my anchor as we walk to the square.

* * *

 _Delancey Pinefield (District Seven Male, age 15)_

* * *

 _Lean on me when you're not strong_

 _And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on_

 _For it won't be long_

 _'Til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on_

* * *

I swing my axe over my head, aiming for the log standing on its side on top of the tree stump. _Thwack_. The log splits in two, and I wipe my brow before standing the split log up once more and- _thwack_ \- slamming my axe into the wood.

"Delancey! Come inside!" It's my twin sister, Harley, who calls out to me, beckoning with her hand towards the door. "We've got to get ready for the Reapings. Plus, Quentin and Darwin are hungry. Let's go."

Harley is basically my BFF. I know, I know. Best friends with a girl, Delancey? The thing is, though we seem super cliche when you first meet us- Harley's very studious and doesn't talk much, I'm the chatterbox and the outgoing one- we're not. You see, unlike many children who don't get along with their siblings, Harley and I have very similar interests and love to do similar things. So why would we _not_ be friends? That's what I figure, at least.

The teasing we got back in the first grade for being together all the time didn't bother me much. In fact, nothing much really bothered me. I was carefree and outgoing, and still am, though I'm not as much now. Ever since Mom disappeared, I've been different.

I was ten. Mom had been… not herself for a while, and though I noticed that, I didn't think much of it. Then, one day, after I got home from my work in the lumber yard, Mom wasn't there. She'd taken that day off, claiming to be "sick", so when I got home with Harley and Dad, it was a huge, not-so-great surprise when we found the house empty and quiet.

Harley hasn't been herself since, and neither have myself or my little brother, Quentin. Darwin, my youngest brother, was a bit young to notice much had gone on, thankfully. We didn't need more grief.

I pick up my axe and the logs I'd chopped, walking to the back door where Harley stands shading her eyes.

"Hey, Harley." I link arms with my sister, smiling up into her face.

She laughs. "Delancey, do you know what the little ones have been begging for the whole day? Food. Go make them some, while I pull everyone's Reaping clothes out. Go. Shoo." She unhooks her arm from mine playfully, and gives me a gentle shove toward the kitchen.

I chuckle. "Whatever." Off I go toward the kitchen. Once I get to the small room, I open a cupboard and pull out some oats. I dump them in a pot and boil them in water over our small cook stove, and when the oatmeal's done, I call my brothers, father and sister.

As the family sits down, Darwin notes the food. "Hey, Harley, did you make oatmeal?"

"Nah, that was Delancey," Harley says through a mouthful.

"And Harley got out everyone's Reaping clothes. You know guys, Harley and I make one heck of a team."

Harley giggles, and Dad frowns. He has basically pushed us out of his life in grief, but mostly he's just trying to find his wife. I don't blame him- much. I'd probably do the same.

As we sit and chat, I zone off. My family is the best, and I can't fathom leaving them.

I'm confident I won't have to.

* * *

 _Aura Graymann, District Seven Escort_

* * *

"Welcome, District Seven." I say. "Let us pick a girl and a boy to represent the fine and mighty District Seven in the Hunger Games." My dry, robotic voice drones over the crowd, and some of them look half-asleep. I really don't care that much, though- I do my job, the District can think whatever they want about me.

I clear my throat. "As per tradition, we will pick the girls first." I turn to look back at the newest Mentor and Victor of last year's Games, Breea Crawford. She looks green, like she's about to throw up. I scoff.

I pick out a slip from the girl's bowl. "Aino Tamminen." I say into the mike. "Could an Aino Tamminen please make her way to the stage?"

A movement in the twelve-year-old section and a cry from the fifteens confuses me. Where could she be coming from? Then a small girl with long brown hair, dressed in a skirt and blouse, makes her way to the stage using small, measured steps. She holds a perfect poker face all the way.

I grab the girl's shoulder and guide her to the center stage. I take a glance at Breea, whose head is now in between her legs. _Oh, gosh, Breea, I know you're stronger than that. Come on._

"Now for the boys. Ahem. Is there a Mr. Delancey Pinefield out there?"

A brown-haired boy who wears a button-down shirt and gray slacks slowly pushes out of his section, the fifteens. He's trying to appear strong, I can tell, but it isn't really working.

"District Seven, your tributes! Aino Tamminen and Delancey Pinefield!"

* * *

 _Aino Tamminen (District Seven Female, age 12)_

* * *

 _What doesn't kill you makes you stronger_

 _Stand a little taller_

 _Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone_

 _What doesn't kill you makes a fighter_

 _Footsteps even lighter_

 _Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone_

* * *

Good Lord, I am spitting mad. Not at my parents, no, wait, that's a lie. I'm furious at them. They stole my childhood, and now I'm going to die. I never really got to experience any of the fun a girl should…

The door to the small room I was placed in opens, and Milla walks in. "Oh, Aino, come here," she sighs. I run into her arms.

Milla strokes my hair. "I know. Oh, dear, trust me. I'm mad too."

"You are?" I mumble into her shoulder.

"Of course. Aino, if anyone took you away, you know how angry I'd get! You know me."

"Milla. Please don't worry about me, okay?" I whisper as I pull away.

She scoffs. "Right. Aino, when am I not worried about you?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Now, dear, I have to go. Please come back to me, Aino."

"MILLA!" I cry. The peacekeeper opens the door and pulls Milla away from me.

"I love you, Aino!" Milla cries.

I crumple to the floor and stay there until my father walks in, trailed by Mom. They're both in tears, and Dad is cursing under his breath.

"Aino. Oh, come on, dearie, don't leave us." Mom whispers. I raise my head.

Dad is pacing in the back. I overhear a bit of what he's saying. "Those scumbags, we trusted them!"

"What does Dad mean?" I ask.

"Nothing, Aino. Nothing." Mom puts on a fake smile. The door opens.

"NO!" I scream, not even caring how young it makes me look. The Peacekeeper beckons for my parents.

I'm not expecting any more visitors. I get a surprise, when Milla's dad walks into the room.

"Hello, Aino. I need you to look at this paper. Here." He hands me an official-looking document, then pulls out another from his pocket. He hands me that one too.

I take a closer look at the first paper. It's my birth certificate. "I've seen this-"

"Look at the other one," he interrupts.

I do. The same document stares me in the face. "The date's different," I whisper.

"Yes, dear. You're not twelve. You're thirteen. I can't explain more. I'm sorry. I have to go." he scoops the paper up and walks briskly out of the door.

 _What? My parents lied to me._

* * *

 _Delancey Pinefield (District Seven Male, age 15)_

* * *

 _Lean on me when you're not strong_

 _And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on_

 _For it won't be long_

 _'Til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on_

* * *

My first visitor is my best friend outside of my family: Jackson Curtis. It surprises me a bit that he was able to get to me before Harley, especially considering our rocky friendship, but I'm glad to see him.

"Jack, hey," I whisper, ducking my head.

"Delancey," he replies. We- being Jackson and I- aren't the closest of friends. In fact, he doesn't always tolerate me, and our on-off friendship is currently "off".

We stand in awkward silence for a minute, before Jackson steps forward towards me. I look down.

"Friends again?" he asks. "I'm sorry I got angry at you over such a silly thing."

"Friends again," I confirm. "And I'm sorry I blamed you for the lost axe."

He man-hugs me and waves. "Thanks, Delancey. Come back to me, okay?"

"I will."

My second visitor is Harley, whose brown hair is plastered to her face with sweat and tears. She runs right up to me and crashes into my arms.  
"Shhhh, Harley, it's okay. Hey, I'll come back. Don't worry."

She whimpers. "But Delancey, there's twenty-three others of you. How will you do it?"

I sigh. "I really don't know. Just trust me, okay? Trust me, Harley. Take care of Darwin and Quentin and Dad."

"Okay."

A Peacekeeper barges into the room, pulling Harley off of me and dragging her out of the room. As she leaves, she throws a small bag to me. "I love you!" she screams as the door slams.

I pick up the bag and open it. Inside is a thin metal bracelet, one that I recognize from somewhere. It hits me.

Mom wore this.

A knock at the door sounds, and Dad walks in, trailed by my little brothers. Quentin whimpers and puts on a brave face, though it breaks almost immediately and a tear slides down his cheek.

Darwin's face is pure and innocent as he stares up at me. "I love you, Delancey. Stay safe."

I feel a drop on my pant leg as I gather my family into my arms. "Goodbye, guys. I love you so much. Harley will take care of the boys. Dad, I need you to snap out of it. Take care of your sons. Harley can't do it on her own.

Dad nods. "Be safe. Come on, boys, let's go before the Peacekeepers make us. Trust me, that'll hurt a lot more."

They parade out of the room, tears on their faces. I break down as soon as they leave.

* * *

 _Songs Used: Stronger: Kelly Clarkson; Lean On Me: Bill Withers_

* * *

 **All righty! Let me explain more of Aino's situation.**

 **Her parents were really overprotective in the chapter, as I'm sure you noticed. There is a reason- Aino was the last of five kids, and the only one who survived past her first year. When Aino was born, her parents didn't dare get attached, worried they'd lose Baby Five. She wasn't even named until she turned one. Her parents had friends high up in the District Government who tampered with her birth certificate to make her seem a year younger than she really was. She's actually thirteen, though basically the whole District thinks she's twelve, including Aino herself. Her parents are super overprotective, because they don't want to lose Aino. So hopefully that explains Aino's backstory more.**

 **Questions:**

 _Who do you like better, Aino or Delancey?_

 _Thoughts on Aino?_

 _Thoughts on Delancey?_

 _Predictions?_

 **Well, I have like nothing to say besides that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a good day! Love you guys!**


	10. Chapter 10: D8 Reapings

_Taffeta Carmen (District Eight Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _But I'm only human_

 _And I bleed when I fall down_

 _I'm only human_

 _And I crash and I break down_

* * *

"Taffeta, I need some help with the dishes. Come on, we can't be late for the Reapings, and the mayor's not letting us go until we're done."

I sigh. "Fine, Kale, here I come." Putting my pencil down, I stand from my squatting position against the wall.

"Start with this," my twin brother says as he hands me a dishrag and plate. "Soap's over here."

As I rub the food off the china plate that is certainly worth more than my best dress, shoes and bracelet put together, I ponder on what today means. It's Reaping day. That means I _should_ , in theory, get the day off from my job as a maid for the mayor of Eight. It also means that two children will be basically chosen to die. We in Eight only have a few Victors, two out of forty-six years of Games. We almost never win.

Woof Casino was lucky. Adeline Lienen was lucky. And I hope that if I am Reaped, I will be lucky. However, I highly doubt it, seeing as I'm literally the least muscled girl at school, as well as one of the slowest. And don't even get me started on my age. So, I'll just have to settle for not being Reaped.

"Taffeta, you listening?"  
"Hm?"

Kale gives me an exasperated look. "Mayor said go home. Told me there's no use keeping us around much longer, seeing as if we don't make the Reapings on time, he gets punished."

"Oh, okay," I reply. Placing the (very clean) plate on the counter and wringing out the washcloth, I wave to the other girls in the room. "May the odds be ever in your favor," I say as Kale and I make our way out.

Kale and I are silent as we walk home. You know that really old saying, 'home is where the heart is'? Yeah, that's not exactly true for Kale and I. 'Home is where the parents aren't' is more like it. Mom and Dad are almost never home. They aren't drunkards, no, nor are they just neglecting. They are extremely busy, though, and since they both work full-time in the factory, I never see them.

My parents believe in survival of the fittest. Both of them growing up on the streets, they became allies of sorts, and helped each other survive. At the time they were nineteen, they finally saved enough to go buy a small apartment in the center of Eight. A year later, Kale and I were born. Since my family is so poor, Mom and Dad have to be really resourceful. Like, _really_ resourceful. I even remember this one time that Mom cut up my doll to help patch my old winter coat. I cried for days.

We make our way inside, and wordlessly we walk to our respective rooms. After taking off my work clothes, I slip a gray cotton, knee-length dress over my head and stuff my feet into my too-small brown leather boots.

"Taffeta, come here. I need to talk." Kale's voice rings through the house. I stand up after putting my hair in a low pony, then walk to Kale's room.

"What's up?"  
"I just wanted to tell you I love you. You know that I do, right? Cause if you don't, I'll have to knock some sense into that head of yours."

I smile. "You know if I had any good sense of humor, I'd be cracking some stupid joke back at you. Of course I know you love me! I love you too, Kale. Don't think for a minute I don't. Now, let's go. I don't want to be late!"

* * *

 _Sonny Smaragdine (District 8 Male, age 14)_

* * *

 _I see the children in the rain like the parade before the pain._

 _I see the love; I see the hate; I see this world that we can make!_

 _I see the life, I see the sky. Give it all to see you fly..._

 _Yes, we wave this flag of hatred, but you're the ones who made it!_

* * *

"Angela, could you pass me the zinnia seeds?" I ask, aiming the question at the cute girl in my class. She nods, wipes the sweat from her brow and hands me a packet of seeds marked with a pink flower logo. I thank her and kneel down once more, digging my trowel into the cool earth. As the hole deepens, I drop a few zinnia seeds in it.

"You know, Sonny, I have always wanted you to join the gardening club. You're lots of fun, and I enjoy being around you," Angela says, breaking the silence.

 _Oh my gosh, does Angela like me?_

"Thanks, Angela. You know, gardening's a whole lot more fun than I thought it was going to be. I'm glad I joined too. Flowers are so pretty, too. I really like those tulips and the poppies. Especially the red ones, you know?"  
Angela looks at me sideways. "Did you know those red poppies are really symbolistic? They basically symbolize death, especially in war. I think they're quite fitting around this time of year, with the Hunger Games and all." She sighs. "I just hope I don't get chosen, and I hope you don't either. I kinda like you, Sonny."

 _She does!_

I ponder this statement, ignoring Angela's confession to liking me for the moment. She thinks the poppies are fitting for this time of year, because of the Games.

Oh my gosh, today's Reaping day. Today, I could be chosen to die. Angela could be chosen to die. And today's Eden's first Reaping, too. _Eden_ could be chosen to die.

I break the silence yet again. "Angela, what are your thoughts on the Games?"

She shrugs. "I don't really give them much thought, honestly. As long as I don't get chosen and neither does my brother Suede, I don't care that much." A pause. "I guess I look out for you, too."

"I hate the Games. Soooo much. They're absolutely cruel, ridiculous and sick. Why does the Capitol want to punish us for our ancestors' poor choices? It's been nearly fifty years- haven't they gotten over it yet?"

Angela looks around nervously. "Sonny, don't say that! You never know who's watching. Shhhh!"

I lower my head. "Sorry. Anyway, I think I should probably go. You know, don't want to be late, right?"

She nods, standing up and wiping her grubby hands on her rough pants. "I'd shake your hand, but my hands are ridiculously dirty. How about a hug instead?"

"Sure."

I wrap my arms around Angela, and she around me. We stay in the embrace for a couple seconds, then she pulls away.

I take a deep breath and place my hands on her shoulders. "After the Reapings, would you like to go out for ice cream?" I ask, squinting.

Angela takes in a sharp breath. "Of course!"

"Okay. I'll see you then, okay?"

"Sure, sounds good." she says.

I start to walk away, and behind me she calls out. "My favorite kind is chocolate!"

"Good to know!" I toss a glance over my shoulder and wink. "May the odds be ever in your favor!"

 _I'm going on a date!_ I am ridiculously giddy as I walk- more like skip- home. As I enter, Mom greets me.

"Hey, Sonny. Ready to go?"

"If this is what I'm wearing, then yes." I reply, glancing at my grubby gardening clothes. Surely I have something else to wear.

She laughs. "Right! Sorry, Sonny. Go change."

I do so, into a red hoodie and clean jeans. That's all I have, sadly. Hopefully it's enough. It should be.

After all, I won't be chosen, so what's the point of dressing up?

* * *

 _Julius Hatronna, District Eight Escort_

* * *

"Welcome one, welcome all to the Reaping for the forty-seventh annual Hunger Games!" I shout into the microphone.

Mild applause as the younger kids cover their ears. How rude. I just hope I don't choose one of them- I don't think I could stand being stuck with a blubbering twelve-year-old child for three weeks. I'd much rather the tributes be older and stronger. And more polite, of course.

"Let's shake things up a bit, and Reap from the boys first today."

The boys tense, some grabbing each other's' hands. I'm not sure why- competing in the Games is an honor!

The first slip I touch is the one I choose. The audience holds their breath as I read the name on the card.

"Sonny Smaragdine! Come on up!"

I only have to wait for a few seconds before a small boy who wears a red hoodie and a pair of jeans stomps out of the fourteen-year-old section. He steps onto the stage and I offer the mike to him.

"Would you like to say anything?"

"Yeah, actually. Here we go. Frick you, and frick the Capitol, and frick President Snow, and frick the Games! You are all sick and twisted! We need justice! Voices from the people! Give me liberty or give me death!"

At this, the nearest Peacekeeper pulls out a stun gun and aims it at the boy, who, when fired at, falls and cracks his head on the glass bowl set up to hold the girls' slips. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.

I stare at him. "Well. Let us now choose a female tribute. Poor Sonny will be fine, don't worry. He has learned his lesson, surely."

I dip my hand into the bowl and pull out a slip. "Taffeta Carmen, would you make your way up here, please?"

No movement. Nothing for a good thirty seconds, at which point Peacekeepers begin to comb through the girls. A ring forms around an average-sized girl with brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in a gray dress. She's hyperventilating and crying, and has to be dragged to the stage by Peacekeepers.

"Normally, you two would shake hands, but that's a bit difficult, considering Sonny's state. Anyway, District Eight, your tributes! Taffeta Carmen and Sonny Smaragdine!"

* * *

 _Taffeta Carmen (District Eight Female, age 14)_

* * *

 _But I'm only human_

 _And I bleed when I fall down_

 _I'm only human_

 _And I crash and I break down_

* * *

I'm still not calmed down as my first visitors make their way into the goodbyes room.

"Taffeta!"

It's Lacey and Paisley, my two best friends. How they got here before Kale, I will never figure out.

I raise my tear-stained face to look at them. "Hey, guys. I'm going to die, right?"

Paisley shakes her head violently back and forth. "No no no, Taffeta, you won't, You can't. We need you. You gotta promise me you won't lose, okay?"

"I'll try, but I don't think I'll win."

Lacey purses her lips together. "You can't think negative! Taffeta, you really need to be more positive."

The Peacekeeper walks in without warning and pulls my friends away. "Time's up, girls!"

"NO! Paisley, Lacey! I'll win for you!" I shout as they are dragged out of the room.

My next visitors are Kale and my parents.

"Oh my goodness, Taffeta, oh my gosh. You can't go. I was thinking about volunteering for the guy, and I really should have." Kale whispers in my ear as we hug.

I pull away. "No! I'm glad you didn't, Kale. You know Mom and Dad would rather lose one of their kids than both."

"Don't tell me you're already planning to die?!" Mom breaks in. "Honey, you're strong! You're fit! You will totally be able to win."

Dad nods. "Yes, dear. We've taught you well, and you need to win."

"Time!" The same Peacekeeper from before pokes his head in.

My family and I hug one last time, then they parade slowly out of the door.

"I love you!" I cry.

* * *

 _Sonny Smaragdine (District 8 Male, age 14)_

* * *

 _I see the children in the rain like the parade before the pain._

 _I see the love; I see the hate; I see this world that we can make!_

 _I see the life, I see the sky. Give it all to see you fly..._

 _Yes, we wave this flag of hatred, but you're the ones who made it!_

* * *

I wake up with a pounding headache.

 _Where am I? This is definitely not my room. It's too nice for that._

I clear my throat, shutting my eyes to keep out the bright light. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sonny." A miserable voice pierces the silence, one I've never heard. "I'm Taffeta, your District partner. Glad you're up."

"My District partner?"

"Yeah. We were Reaped. You cursed out the Escort, a Peacekeeper tasered you and you hit your head. Ring any bells?" The sarcasm in her voice is obvious.

"Where's my mom? Why didn't I get to see her?"

"You were knocked out through the entire goodbye hour."

Oh my gosh. I'm a tribute in the Games, and I will never see my family again.

* * *

 _Songs: Human: Christina Perri, Young: Hollywood Undead_

* * *

 **Well, well, well! Done with District Eight! I hope you guys enjo** **yed Taffeta and Sonny as much as I liked writing them! Poor Sonny, not getting to see his family… :(**

 **On a completely unrelated note, I listen to Pandora when I write, right? And halfway through Sonny's first POV, Taffeta's theme song started playing. It was pretty great. I was like, "hey, I know this song!"**

 **Sorry that Reapings are so dang repetitive. Trust me, I hate them too…**

 **Shoutout time! You guys should all check out The United Districts of Panem's story called The Chosen Age. It's an AU of the 75th games, and the guy's a really great author. He's written a SYOT on a previous account called Wolves, Avalanches and Trees, but he deleted it :( I have great hopes for him!**

 **Also, I wanted to thank you guys for 104 reviews! Shoutout to dreams and desperation for getting #100! PARTY!**

 **Questions!**

 _Who do you like better, Taffeta or Sonny? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Taffeta?_

 _Thoughts on Sonny?  
Predictions?_

 **Have a great day!**


	11. Chapter 11: D9 Reapings

_Semolina Citrus (District Nine Female, age 15)_

* * *

 _My power's turned on,_

 _Starting right now I'll be strong,_

 _I'll play my fight song,_

 _And I don't really care if nobody else believes!_

 _'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me!_

* * *

A plate slides under the bars of my prison cell, the metal-on-metal scratching sound waking me from my slumber. I stretch and stand, yawning.

"Well, well, if it isn't Gladius?" I say, and it comes out squeakier and more high-pitched than I expected. Must be a side effect of having just woken up.

Said Peacekeeper takes a deep breath, and I can hear him counting to ten under his breath. "Eat your food, inmate," he says sternly. "I've been ordered to stay here till you do, and I have much better things to do than stand around and wait for you to down that grub."  
I shake my head, and my wavy blonde hair flies around my face. "Right. That'll happen." As I say this, I sit back on my cot, leaning back towards the wall in a small act of defiance.

Gladius counts to ten once more, sighing. "Kid, today's the Reapings. I have to catch a train to Two in an hour to see my family, and I can't do that if I'm standing here watching you do… whatever the heck you all do here!"

"That's nice," I say. "Why should I care about you wanting to see your family? I haven't seen mine in a year, you know. Why should I care?"

He growls. "Because, kid, if you get Reaped today, and you don't eat, you'll be weakened. You will have little to no chance in the Games! Eat your vittles. I have to go soon!"

The frustration in his voice is obvious- he really wants to see his family. That's really a shame- I do too, and if I don't get to see Mom and Dad and Lianna, he _will_ miss his train.

"You know, Gladius, I want to see my sister and parents today too," I say. "How about we make a deal? You drop Lianna, Gretta and Myles Citrus by here on your way out. I won't keep you any longer, and I'll even eat… whatever _that_ is."

He ponders my request. I cross my fingers, hoping.

"Oh, fine."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "Cool." Hopping off the bed with a newly found spring in my step, I make my way to the small metal plate of food.

Today's meal is a small amount of pork and a tiny salad. Hardly breakfast food, but at least it's something. I pick up the fork that was provided and spear the pork, eating it all in four bites. The salad is finished in three.

"Now, don't forget to bring Lianna and Mom and Dad!" I call after Gladius as he carries the plate away. I sink back down onto my cot.

I haven't heard anything from Lianna, Mom or Dad for a full year or so. We've all been in prison for that time, for stealing food. It's extremely unfair. We were starving, so I did what I had to do and suggested that we we go steal some bread from the nearby trading post. I was 13. So that night, we went out and got some food. That night, we feasted! We kept stealing, getting more and more reckless and risky, until we were finally caught.

Mom and Dad received a whipping- 15 lashes each- and all four of us were sentenced to two years in prison. That's where I am now.

A knock at the door sounds. "Come in," I shout.

The lock clicks, and my family walks in! Lianna is broomstick thin and Mom and Dad are bruised black and blue. I rush up to them. "Oh my gosh, Gladius wasn't kidding," I whisper.

"Yeah, he brought us here a few minutes ago. 'Five minutes,' he said." Mom replies.

"Well, I'm so glad you're here," I say, hugging each family member. We start talking, and I immediately feel at home again.

* * *

 _Demetrius Osborne (District Nine Male, age 15)_

* * *

 _Heal the world_

 _Make it a better place_

 _For you and for me and the entire human race_

 _There are people dying_

 _If you care enough for the living_

 _Make a better place for_

 _You and for me._

* * *

Reaping Day always scares me, but never quite this much. This year, with all my slips, I have an even greater chance of being chosen than last. As well as that, it's Carina's last year and next year I won't be able to have her additional tesserae.

It'll all be me.

That's my main concern today. I hate the Games with a passion. I've never lost anyone to them- no, my dad and sister died in a different way. I just hate the fact that humanity is so cruel as to make teenagers- _kids-_ kill each other. Why does it have to happen?

My family's among the poorest in Nine. We were poor before the accident, but now we're even poorer. My dad and older sister, who was called Becca, were killed in a street-fight when I was seven, Carina was ten, and Becca- poor thing- was only nine. I can't imagine what it'd be like to lose your life in the games at fifteen, let alone to some homeless guy on the street at nine.

Here in Nine, the poorest kids start work at eight years old. So with me being a year too young to work, and Mom figuratively paralyzed by the trauma of Dad and Becca's death, Carina was pretty much the sole provider. Since, Mom's gotten better and I've grown enough to work. We're still hungry pretty much constantly, though, even with the load of tesserae Carina and I have taken.

I roll over in my bed, swinging my legs over the side of the mattress and standing. We have a day off work for the Reapings, thankfully, so I was able to sleep in. It's got to be nearly eleven.

Carina's hums travel from the kitchen to the bedroom, and I stretch my arms over my head. Shrugging off my shorts and the tee shirt I slept in, I walk to the wardrobe. I pull on a pair of jeans and a dressy-ish shirt, then shake my head. _This won't do!_

I open the drawer of Dad's old clothes, looking for the suit he loved so much. When I pull the pants out and hold them to my legs, they're a bit long, but not too much. I remove the jeans and pull on the slacks. _Better._ The suit top goes on as well, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Dad would be proud; I've grown to look much like him, with my dark unkempt curls and intense blue eyes. My face has lost its roundness and is beginning to square out.

"Demetrius, come get brunch!" calls Carina from the kitchen. I step out into the hall and make my way down towards the kitchen. Carina and Mom are already seated, so I take my seat and dig into my food. It's pretty good; the tesserae bread isn't as bad as many think when you dip it in tomato sauce from the garden out back.

"So, Demetrius, how are you feeling?" Carina asks me.  
"Nervous."

"Really? I wouldn't stress so badly- I'm sure there's boys in the bowl with twice the amount of slips you have. After all, look at me- 135 slips and I haven't been Reaped yet."

I scoff. "Don't tell me you're not nervous!"

"Oh, I am."

Mom breaks in. "You'll both be fine."

I believe her, too. She's usually right. This discussion happens every year, and neither of us have been chosen yet. There's got to be _some_ truth to her words.

Carina nods. "You'll be fine, Demetrius, don't worry."

I wish she knew for sure that she was right.

* * *

 _Gardenia Farley, District Nine Escort_

* * *

"Excited?" I ask my newest kitty, Lottie. She nuzzles me, and I take it as a yes. "I am too, Lots. I wonder who the tributes will be."

The Peacekeeper calls to me. "Ms. Farley, you have to be on stage right now. The Reapings are ready to begin."

My cats cuddle me once more, and I pat each of them on the head as I make my way through all 42 kitty bodies to the stage door. One slips through my legs and I pick it up. It's Leo, my first-ever tabby. He'll add some aesthetic to the stage; it's always so bland.

"Welcome, guys, and meet Leo!" I say, at the mike. "Let's choose a girl!"

The ladies tense up. Some of the twelve-year-olds have tears in their eyes. I pull a slip out and read it. "Ahem. Is a Rhea Harlequin here?"

A moment passes with no moment whatsoever, save the relieved sighs of the female children. A Peacekeeper taps his wrist, probably searching the archives for the girl. He taps me on the shoulder.

"The Reaped girl is dead," he whispers in my ear. "Starved."

My eyes widen. "Oh, well then! It seems that miss Harlequin is no longer with us. Let's choose another girl."

My arm snakes back through the bowl. I grasp a slip, reading the name on it. "Semolina Citrus!" Again, no movement from the chosen girl, but this time a wide circle forms around a petite girl with wavy blonde-brown hair and piercing blue eyes. When the Peacekeepers walk up to her, she shrugs them off and walks up herself, straight-faced.

She takes her spot and I call the boy's name. "Demetrius Osborne!"

Soon afterwards, a short boy with curly black hair makes his way up, tears slipping from his face. I smile at him and Leo hisses.

"District Nine, your tributes! Semolina Citrus and Demetrius Osborne!"

* * *

 _Semolina Citrus (District Nine Female, age 15)_

* * *

 _My power's turned on,_

 _Starting right now I'll be strong,_

 _I'll play my fight song,_

 _And I don't really care if nobody else believes!_

 _'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me!_

* * *

My feelings are all over the place. I know I should be crying, but I'm not! Instead, I feel strangely free and powerful. I can do whatever I want! I can die on my own terms, if I want!

I suppose my family won't be allowed to come see me, since they're still needing to serve another full year in prison. Likely, they were just escorted back to the prison.

That's why I'm pleasantly surprised when the door opens. A girl I haven't seen for years walks into the room, eyes puffy and cheeks tear-stained.

"Semolina," she chokes out.

"Faith," I breathe. "Oh my gosh!" We hug, and as we do, tears finally fall. I didn't realize how much I'd missed my friends.

She perches on the edge of a luxurious chair, and I do the same. "Can I tell you something?" I ask, knowing what her answer will be. Faith was always the best person to tell things to- she kept secrets with her life and never let them go.

"Anything," she replied.

I take a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not scared, Faith."

"How?" she asks, nearly shouts.

"I know that I'm going to die. That's inevitable, Faith. So having this opportunity, to get good food, be pampered, to die how I want if I want, it's not scary at all. I just need you to take care of my family. Lianna especially; she needs extra help."

"Time!" The Peacekeeper calls from the doorway. I hug Faith one last time, and she nods into my hair.

"I will take care of your family, Semolina."

"Thank you."

* * *

 _Demetrius Osborne (District Nine Male, age 15)_

* * *

 _Heal the world_

 _Make it a better place_

 _For you and for me and the entire human race_

 _There are people dying_

 _If you care enough for the living_

 _Make a better place for_

 _You and for me._

* * *

Mom and Carina are first. We cry a lot; Mom hands me a watch that Dad used to own. That was surprising. I don't know why she thought to bring it if she was so confident that we wouldn't be chosen. Carina smiled tearily at me when they leave, and I try to memorize their faces. I might never see them again, after all.

After they leave, Rick, my best friend, comes into the room.  
'Wow, man, this furniture's nice."

"Yeah."

We're silent for a while. Rick has always been a man of few words, like Dad. It's funny though, because Rick is the most rebellious guy I know.

After Rick leaves, this girl from class walks in. It's kind of surprising, because she's my crush and though we've gotten together once or twice, we always left each other.

"Hey, Demetrius."

"Hey, Izadora. You doing well?"

"Yup. I'd ask how you were doing, but, well…" Her sentence trails off. I nod.

She tenses up. "Demetrius, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I like you, I think," she says.

"Me too. I like you too."

She leaves with a smile on her face, after hugging me.

* * *

 _Songs Used: Fight Song, Rachel Platten; Heal the World, Michael Jackson_

* * *

 **Well, that's that.**

 **Sorry I've been a while. I'm moving, so now I have to go to the library to write, so… yeah. Sorry.**

 **Three more Reaping chapters! I am literally counting the days. OMG.**

 **I hope I didn't screw your tribute up, Rose. I don't know if flowersnowgirl's still reading, but if you are, same for you. These two were really fun to write.**

 **Shoutout to Caleb for PMing me and reminding me to get my butt in the chair and write. Thanks, man!**

 **Questions:**

 _Who do you like better, Semolina or Demetrius? Why?  
Thoughts on Semolina? _

_Thoughts on Demetrius?  
Predictions?_

 **And a bonus question!**

 _Do you hate me for taking so long?_

 **See you all later!**


	12. Chapter 12: D10 Reapings

_Sabrina "Bri" Cress (District Ten Female, age 13)_

* * *

 _There's been trials and tribulations_

 _You know I've had my share_

 _But I've climbed the mountain, I've crossed the river_

 _And I'm almost there, I'm almost there_

 _I'm almost there!_

* * *

Rain.

It started raining last night, right when I left work, and it hasn't let up yet. That's what I hate about rain- it stays for a long while, especially here in Ten. It doesn't rain often, but when it does, it rains for _hours._

That's especially annoying, because though I get a shortened work day today because of the Reapings, I still have to go shovel the muck at Maire and Graham's stable. I am pretty young to be working, but what can you do when you have two little kids, two adults and yourself to feed?

I quietly swing my legs over the bed frame and change into my leather jacket, work pants and tall black (well, now they're brown) rainboots. As I tiptoe down the hall, careful not to wake my siblings at this _early_ morning hour (it's nine, they're still asleep, ugh), the rain pitter-patters on the windows and roof. Pit, pat, pit. I pull a slice of bread out of the icebox and quickly butter it, then stick it in my mouth and hold it there as I tie my boots. After that's done, I pull the bread back out of my mouth. Mommy and Daddy are still asleep, and so are Jean and Kid. That's my main goal- don't wake anyone up until absolutely necessary. They need their sleep.

I sweep the umbrella and my house keys off the shelf, stuffing the keys in my pocket and grasping the yellow umbrella in my left hand as I open the door with my right.

I open the umbrella as I walk down the main street towards work. I make minimum wage- four dollars an hour- at my job, which is scooping the muck from the stalls at the horse-keeper's place. I hate it; it's low-paying, dirty and smelly, but I'm helping feed my family.

"Bri!"

I whip around, my long, wet brown hair flying, and spot Bella, my best friend, flying down the street with a slap noise each time she steps. She wears the same outfit as me- a white t-shirt, brown cargo pants and tall rubber boots that used to be black but are now quite covered in the brown horse droppings. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in an intricate braid. I don't see why her mother bothers to do Bella's hair- it'll just get messed up by the end of the day, at least mine was, when I bothered to do it. Now I just leave it down.

"Hey!" I say once she catches up to me.

She gives me a once-over. "What, no hair again?"

"Yeah, Bella. Mine's too thick to stay in much of a hairstyle for long. You know that."

"Oh, right." She pauses. "What's up with Kid? Have you told him yet?"

"Bells, that's kind of not your business, and no, not yet," I say. Kid, my little brother whose name is actually Bale, had a twin sister who died right after she was born, before we could name the poor girl. Kid doesn't know yet, though I expect Mommy will tell him soon enough. I called her Camellia, and that's the name on her tombstone.

"Sorry. Just curious," Bella replies.

"You're good." We walk in silence for the rest of the way. Bella and I have kind of run out of things to say to each other, since we've been best friends since toddlerhood.

We make our way through the crowd of incoming workers to the stables, where Sandi, my other friend, and Charlie, my sort-of friend, are already hard at work.

"Where were you?" Charlie smiles.

"Uh, walking here!" I reply, smiling back. I stride to the shovel rack and pull off a shovel. As we get to work, the tense silence in the room, which is usually loud laughter, alarms me.

I won't be Reaped. I can't.

* * *

 _Duroc Merino (District Ten Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town_

 _From dust._

* * *

I love my job. It's not everyone who gets to work with animals, especially not everyone my age. At seventeen, I have a better-paying job than about three quarters of my District, and it's much more fun, too. I heard that most kids my age and younger are stationed in shoveling at Maire and Graham's. I'm immensely grateful.

The bad thing is that today it's raining. That makes it really difficult to drive the cattle in an efficient manner, since the ground gets all soggy and muddy. I can still drive them, sure, it's just difficult and slow. I can't afford to be slow today, no, not on the day of the Reaping, so I woke up extra early. It's got to be, like, five in the morning right now, and here I am, up and ready to go. Thankfully, our cows don't really run on any schedule but our own.

Dad comes out of the small bathroom, dressed in the same general outfit as me. We wear our normal work garb- old blue jeans that are more gray than any other color, and a burgundy tee shirt- and cover it with a yellow raincoat. Wordlessly, we stuff our feet into black rain boots and make our way to the yard.

As we walk out to the stables and begin our work, thoughts of Mother cross my mind. She and my father divorced when I was twelve, after a long while of arguments every day about money and jobs and my brother, sister and I. She's not dead or anything, in fact, I saw her just two days ago, but I'm already missing her. I won't see her until after the Reapings.

"Hey, Dad," I say. I have the perfect joke in mind to lighten the heavy, gloomy mood. "Why was six afraid of seven?"

"Because seven eight nine?" Dad says. I knew he'd say that- that's one of my most used pun-jokes.

"Nope! He wasn't. Numbers are not sentient and thus are incapable of feeling fear. Silly."

Dad smacks his palm onto his forehead. "Duroc, every time!"

I smile. This is what makes me me. I love my family immensely and making them happy makes me the happiest guy alive. I've been told I look really intimidating and scary due to my large, heavy build and the fact that I don't smile when I'm focusing or being occupied. I think I'm just a big softie.

We work for a while, me cracking jokes from time to time and Dad laughing at the corny ones. Eventually, he tells me to go get breakfast.  
"It's almost eight," he tells me when I insist I'm not hungry. I check the watch on my wrist, the luxury I got last year when I turned seventeen. He's right- it's seven-forty-five. I really should eat. I need to clean myself up for the Reapings, too.

"I love you, Dad," I smile up at him as I walk to the ranch's main building, my house.

Once I get inside, I sit down with the toast that Houdan made for the family- I can tell Houdan made it because it's black in some places while perfectly cooked in others. Buttering it and bringing it to my mouth, I think about the Reapings.

Today, Sanga and Tomas, my best friends, are eligible, along with myself. Thankfully, Houdan isn't yet, and Criollo has five years still. I can't afford to lose either of them. Dad was talking about hiring Sanga and Tomas to get them out of Maire and Graham's and near me. I'd love that.

Why was Duroc happy?

Because he wasn't Reaped.

I wish I knew that for sure, but for now, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine.

* * *

 _Wolverine Thomas, District Ten Escort_

* * *

I hate my job. Not because I hate choosing kids to die. Nah, the Games are fun to watch. The bad thing about my job is how boring it is. I can't really resign, though, since the Capitol has voted me 'best escort' and Snow would kill me, literally, if I quit.

So today, and next year, and all the coming years until either I die or Snow kills me, I escort kids to their almost certain death. We've had our fair share of Victors, sure, but not a ton, not enough to be a Career District like One or Two or Four. We're gaining on their seven or eight each, though, with five victors to our name here in Ten.

I sit on the stage, ready to choose the names and get it all over with, but nooo, the mayor is reading the Treaty. This could take a while. I start to doze and fall into something almost like sleep, head in hands. I know I could be killed for this, but honestly, I don't care all that much.

The mayor taps my shoulder as he walks by, and that snaps me awake. I yawn quietly and make my way to the bowl.

"Let's start with the girls, shall we?" I say, walking to the bowl. I pick a slip out. "Sabrina Cress!"

A small girl walks from the thirteens, with brown hair tucked into a bun, and a round, pink flower in the bun. She wears a faded blue dress and leather belt. She's crying, with a hand to her mouth and watery eyes.

"All right, welcome Sabrina to the stage! Let's choose a young man, now, shall we?" I walk to the boys' bowl and grab the first slip I touch. "Duroc Merino!"  
No one moves, and I have to call the name again before a stocky, dark-skinned boy stomps out of the seventeens. Dressed in a shabby purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up and nice black pants, he'd be handsome if he weren't playing with his hands like a crazy man.

"District Ten, your tributes! Sabrina Cress and Duroc Merino!"

* * *

 _Sabrina "Bri" Cress (District Ten Female, age 13)_

* * *

 _There's been trials and tribulations_

 _You know I've had my share_

 _But I've climbed the mountain, I've crossed the river_

 _And I'm almost there, I'm almost there_

 _I'm almost there!_

* * *

My visitors walk into the room almost right after I'm shoved inside. It's my family, and all of them are in tears, except Kid. He probably wasn't told about the Games yet. After all, he is only four.

I take a deep breath as Mommy smashes me into a hug. I'd been chewing my knuckle as I'd gone upstage, breaking the skin. It's bleeding pretty badly, but I barely feel any pain. It's all sorrow. I'll never see Kid or Jean grow up, and I won't visit Camellia's grave ever again. Mom and Dad will need to work extra hard without my income, and Jean will probably have to start work soon. Poor kid.

"Mommy, you can let go now," I say, crushed in her shoulder.

"Sorry, Bri. I'm just really scared for you, honey," she says in between breaths.

"Why?" Kid pipes up. "You said she was going to play a game. I like games."

I smile at Kid as best I can. "Hey, buddy, promise me you'll help Jean keep the house in order. Help Mommy out, okay?"

Dad smiles at me. "Try and win, Bri. We'll miss you, but we're confident you'll be back." They all hug me again and file slowly out of the door as the Peacekeeper opens it, just like a funeral procession.

Which in a way, it is.

* * *

 _Duroc Merino (District Ten Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town_

 _From dust._

* * *

I fiddle with my token, a wooden wolf on a chain. It's simple, but it will remind me of home.

Home. It's such a bittersweet word; a goodbye but also a hello, an ending but also a beginning.

I'm not sure what I'll do without my family, and without my home.

Criollo, Houdan, and Dad are my first and only visitors. I'm not sure why Mom wasn't allowed to come- maybe she just didn't want to. I hope that's not the case. Poor thing really loves me and the kids.

Criollo crouches next to me. "Where are you going, Duroc?"

"I'm going to play a game," I tell her.

"Ooh, a game! Can I come?"

"No, Cri. You have to stay here. I promise I'll be back though, and then we'll play all the games you want."  
She's disappointed, I can tell by the way her bottom lip pokes out. Just as she's about to cry, I pat her head.

"Hey Criollo, what do you call an old snowman?"

"What?"  
I smile. "Water!"

Criollo launches into a fit of giggles, and Dad takes the opportunity to pull her out of the room. "Stay safe, Duroc!" he shouts as he leaves.

"I promise." I whisper as the door shuts.

* * *

 _Songs Used: Almost There: Disney; Warriors: Imagine Dragons_

* * *

 **Yay for fast chapters, amirite?**

 **Hey guys! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I liked writing it! Just a note, I'm aware that most 13-year-olds don't call their parents "mommy" and "daddy". I do know one that does, though, so it's not unheard of… It was dictated in Bri's form that she calls her parents that. SOoOo…**

 **(FineBros voice) QUESTION TIME!**

 _Who do you like better, Bri or Duroc?_

 _Thoughts on Bri?_

 _Thoughts on Duroc?_

 _Predictions?_

 **Have a great day, everyone. I look forward to District Eleven, where we'll meet Tilly and Barric!**


	13. Chapter 13: D11 Reapings

_Tilly Husk (District Eleven Female, age 16)_

* * *

 _Ever since I could remember,_

 _Everything inside of me,_

 _Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)_

 _I was never one for pretenders,_

 _Everything I tried to be,_

 _Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)_

* * *

When I wake, the first thing I hear is birds chirping outside, robins and jays and others I can't tell the type of from the sound alone. I roll over in bed, pulling my pillow over my face and smashing my head into the worn mattress.

My eyes open, but still I see nothing. I have never known anything else. _Born blind_ , the doctors told Mom. I don't mind my not being able to see, but the bullies do. They're the reason my life was pretty much ruined.

It's Reaping Day, and I have no idea how everything can be so happy when we're going to be chosen to die. Mom is still at the orchards, probably, and Petal's still in school. I used to go to school, and I still would, if it weren't for my blindness and the bullies. I really just want to fit in. It's hard, not going to school or to the orchards to work just because I can't see, but Mom and Petal help.

I hum as I pull my legs over my bedside and stand up carefully. My "cane", which is really just a warbled stick Petal snuck from the orange trees, is right where I remember putting it- up against the wall, ready to be used. I snag it and head to the closet.

I've gotten really good at memorizing the textures and smells of all my clothes, and right now I recognize the soft fabric and tulle lining of my best Reaping dress in the back of my closet. I pull it out of the closet and sit down on the nearby rickety chair. As I pull off my pajamas, I hear a distant knock at the front door.

That's the nice thing about being blind; I get to rely heavily on my sharpened senses of smell, hearing, and touch. Each one has its own use: I can smell and touch fabrics and objects to recognize which is which, and I hear almost everything.

"Just a moment!" I call as I slip on the Reaping dress. I grab my cane and make my way, slowly but surely, to the door. It opens, and someone walks in.

When that someone speaks, I can tell it's Petal. "Hey, Tilly! How are you?"  
"Good," I say.

I love Petal because she never treats me like I'm different or bad because of my blindness. Some people feel the need to talk really loudly and sometimes get spittle in my face, and that especially is the worst.

She slips her shoes off and pats me on the back. "So. Today at school, we went over the twenty-ninth, you know, Seeder's Games. Here's the book, see if you can get your mom to read them to you." I outstretch my arm and Petal guides my hand to the book, which I promptly pick up.  
"Cool. What about math?"

She groans. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask. Algebra. Here's the book." Again, I outstretch my arm, and again, Petal guides me to the book, on the small chair that basically forms our "sitting room".

"Thanks. Let's go to my room. You need to tell me which shoes to wear."  
There's a pause before Petal speaks again. "Oh, right. I forgot you can't see nods. Okay, let's go."

She grabs my arm and helps me walk. I don't really need help walking, but it's nice to be babied once in a while.

Once we make it to my bedroom, Petal guides me to a corner with a chair. "Sit."

I obey and wait for her to pick out shoes. Eventually she does, and passes them to me. They're smooth leather, and I can guess they're black or white. I shove them on, along with soft cotton socks.

"We should go now," Petal pipes up after a while of us just thinking. She hands me my cane and we walk out towards the Reaping square.

* * *

 _Barric Kerner (District Eleven Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _Maybe it's a cruel joke on me_

 _Whatever, whatever_

 _Just means there's way more cake for me_

 _Forever, forever_

* * *

It's been a few hours since I woke up and Brianna _still_ isn't back from wherever she went last night. That probably means she got caught and is stuck with the Peacekeepers. Either that or she got drunk and… did things with boys. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

The door opens, as if on cue, right as I crack an egg into the pan.

"Brianna, is that you?" I call out, twisting my head to see if it's her. It is. Brianna is being detained by two Peacekeepers, who each grasp one of her arms with one tight hand.

I sigh. "Azalea, come take care of the eggs!" Azalea, who's sixteen, pokes her head out of the bedroom and walks out briskly. She grabs the spatula from me and shoots me a knowing look. I march to where the Peacekeepers stand, still holding onto Brianna.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure?" I ask, directing the question at the left-side Peacekeeper.

The right-side one breaks in.

"We found this one with Mason Everts and that crowd last night. Wouldn't tell us where you lived. The kid's been spraying graffiti on the tesserae trains, nothing rebellious, though it's still a punishable offense. You're lucky she's only twelve and that it's Reaping Day. Otherwise, Head Peacekeeper would have her head." He pushes my sister towards me with a rough hand. "Here's the fine. Fifty. Get it into the Justice Building by sundown tomorrow or it doubles." He turns to his friend. "Let's go, cadet."

The Peacekeepers turn crisply and make their way out the door. I grab Brianna by the arm as she tries to walk away and sit her in a chair.

"Bri, why?" I ask in as harsh of a tone as I can manage. "You know Grandma and Grandpa can't afford to pay that fine! It means Azalea, you and I all have to work twice as hard as normal to feed them and Wren. I have to take the money out of the grocery stash."

Brianna looks down at her hands. "I'm sorry," she says in a meek voice.  
"Sorry won't cut it today, kiddo. Go get ready and don't let me see your face until we have to go!" Brianna takes the hint and scampers off to the bedroom she shares with my eight-year-old sister, Wren.

"What now?" Azalea asks as she sets the eggs on the table in front of me.

"Bri's been out with her popular crowd. She graffitied a tesserae train. Second offense, I think, but thankfully not seen as rebellious. We got a fifty-dollar fine, due by sundown tomorrow." I sit in the chair, head in hands. "What are we ever going to do with that kid?"

"I don't know, Barric. For right now, let's just worry about the Reapings." She sits by me and pats my back. "Wren needs to be told. She's eight now."  
I look up. "Would you do that? I need to tell Grandma and Grandpa about Brianna and her latest shenanigans."

"Yeah. Sure, I can do that. You go get ready."

"Cool." I stand up and grab the plate and a fork, walking to my room. I pull on a blue shirt and brown pants, along with black boots. It's been a bad day so far, but I don't think it can be much worse. I mean, I just found out my twelve-year-old sister broke multiple laws last night, and Grandma and Grandpa will not be able to pay this fine. I'll have to take it out of our grocery money and work double shifts next week.

It can't get much worse than that, can it?

* * *

 _Flora Balindus, District Eleven Escort_

* * *

It's a good life, being an escort. I get to meet the tributes firsthand, speak to them, get autographs, and last year I even took the girl tribute's token. She was so confused, believe me. I really enjoy my job. Today is one of my all-time favorite days: the Reaping. I get to choose the kids who will be the tributes.

I sit on my chair on the stage, waiting for the clock to chime the eleven notes that signal the beginning of the Reaping. When they finally do, I almost jump straight out of my chair and skip to the mike.

"Welcome, yadda yadda, let's get this party started." I say, rolling my eyes. I make my way to the girls' bowl. As I dip in my hand and pull out a single slip, the girls tense up. _Why?_ I wonder. _It's an honor to be chosen._

I walk back to the mike, and read out the name. "Petal Jacobs!"

A girl walks out of the sixteen year old sector, shaking and sobbing. She makes it up half the stairs before anything happens.

But then…

"I volunteer as tribute!" Another girl from the sixteen year olds raises her hand and hits another girl's bun in the process. The othergirl turns and titters when she sees the volunteer. She obviously doesn't like her.

The volunteer slowly walks through the crowd of girls. When she emerges, I notice for the first time that she carries a cane. _Is she blind?_

The crowd seems to think the same as she walks upstage. When she reaches the Reaped girl, they hug. The volunteer whispers to the other girl, and Petal scampers back to her spot.

"Well, well! What's your name, dear?"

She speaks, looking out at the crowd with murky eyes. _She is._ "Tilly Husk."

"Tilly, we as a District wish you the best of luck."

Tilly nods. I walk to the boys' bowl and pull out a single slip, then hop back to the mike and read off the name.

"Barric Kerner!"

A tall boy from the seventeens begins to go wide-eyed as a circle of kids forms around him. He wrings his hands as he slowly stumbles upstage, and I have to guide him to his spot. Some of the boys from his section jeer at him.

"Barric, we wish you the best of luck!" I say. The two tributes just look down at the ground, Barric tearing up. "District Eleven, your tributes! Tilly Husk and Barric Kerner!"

* * *

 _Tilly Husk (District Eleven Female, age 16)_

* * *

 _Ever since I could remember,_

 _Everything inside of me,_

 _Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)_

 _I was never one for pretenders,_

 _Everything I tried to be,_

 _Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)_

* * *

I sit down on the plush couch, afraid but strangely content. My arm shakes and I try to calm myself and it. As I do so, the door creaks open.

"Hey, Tilly." It's Petal. She sits next to me on the couch, and I reach out to hug her. She wraps her arms around me. "Why'd you do it?" she whispers.

"Well, you know, I'm blind and you're not. I'll never marry because no one wants a wife who can't work, especially here. I have a life of darkness ahead of me, and you will have a long happy one. I didn't want the Capitol to take that from you. I'd much rather they took it from me."

"Oh, Tilly. You didn't," she says, and her voice cracks. Petal wraps me in another hug, and we stay that way until the Peacekeeper walks in to pull Petal away from me. I tear up as the door creaks open, and start to sob as her grip weakens. Then it's gone.

"I love you, Petal!" I yell as the door creaks shut. The lock clicks.

I sit and wait for a few minutes before my next visitor appears. It's my mother, I can tell when she hugs me because of her scent of lilacs.  
"Hey, Mom."

"Why?" she asks. "Why, Tilly? You have a life ahead of you."

I shake my head. "You don't understand. I don't. No one wants to marry a blind girl, I can't work, I won't be of any use to anyone. Petal does."  
"Well, Tilly, I want you to know I dislike your choice to volunteer, but I think you're a very valiant and kind girl. I love you." Her arms grasp me in a hug.

She only lets go after a minute or so. The couch cushion puffs up once more, alerting me that my mother has stood. She leaves with a creak of the door, and I crane my neck to try to catch a whiff of her lilac scent.

* * *

 _Barric Kerner (District Eleven Male, age 17)_

* * *

 _Maybe it's a cruel joke on me_

 _Whatever, whatever_

 _Just means there's way more cake for me_

 _Forever, forever_

* * *

Yes, it can. It can get much worse.

The door opens, and my family walks in. Sage, my grandpa, leads the pack inside. Following him is Camilla, my grandmother, then Azalea, Brianna, and finally my youngest sister, Wren. All of them are in tears.

Wren shrieks when she sees me, and runs into my arms. "Barric!" she cries. "Are you gonna die?"  
"No, dear, I'll come back, I promise," I say to her. She looks up at me, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Barric, I want you to take this for your token," Grandpa whispers, pressing a bottle cap with a deer in a circle engraved in it. It's the symbol that Grandpa always claims was our family's symbol before the war.

"Of course," I reply. "Of course, Grandpa."

Brianna walks up to me next, bottom lip trembling. "I'm sorry, Barric. I'm sorry I disobeyed. I promise, I'll never misbehave again."

I hug her. "Don't worry, munchkin. I love you. Keep that promise, okay?"

She nods. I beckon for my family to surround me. I hug each of them in turn, smiling and being as brave as I possibly can. They all file out when the Peacekeeper walks in, not wanting to get in more trouble than Brianna's already gotten us in.

"I love you guys. I love you so much." I whisper as they leave. My eyes tear up as Wren sticks her little head back in the door.

"I love you too, Barric. Remember your promise."

* * *

 _Songs used: Monster; Imagine Dragons, Pity Party; Melanie Martinez_

* * *

 **Eleven down, one to go. I am so pumped to almost be out of the Reapings! I also want to thank you all for almost 130 reviews! That's insane for just Reapings and I can't thank you enough.**

 **Anyway, sorry this chapter's semi late. I had a lot going on. I hope you enjoyed, though!**

 **Questions!:**

 _Who do you like better, Tilly or Barric? Why?  
_ _Thoughts on Tilly?  
_ _Thoughts on Barric?  
_ _Predictions?_

 **Have a great day, and I'll see you in Twelve!**


	14. Chapter 14: D12 Reapings

_Beulah Sairel (District 12 Female, age 17)_

* * *

 _Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days  
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out  
Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days  
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out_

* * *

Coal dust sucks.

It's literally everywhere here in Twelve, and the worst part about it is that it never leaves. It coats the beds and sheets, the tables and chairs, and even our bodies. No matter how much we scrub, it always stays on our skin. It even gets in our food, like the piece of bread I'm eating that is flecked with black. Mom made it, and it's good, but the coal dust annoys me.

"Hey, Beulah, would you mind waking Jayne up for me?" Mom asks as she bites into her slice of black-flecked bread.

"Sure," I stand up and walk to the room I share with my sister, rapping on the door. "Jayne?"

A yawn surfaces from inside the room and I open the door. My twenty-year-old sister sits up in bed.

"Hey, Bee," she says.

I wave. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Dang good. I am nervous, though, since it's Reaping Day."

"Why? You aren't eligible, Jayne. You haven't been for a few years now."

She shrugs. "Yeah, but you are."

"True." We stand in silence for a few seconds, but I break the moment by walking up to my sister and wrapping my arms around her. We're model siblings; Jayne and I know we can always turn to each other if we need anything and are pretty similar. We seldom fight, especially now that we're almost adults.

"Jayne, I'm scared," I whisper in her ear.

"I know, Bee. Don't worry, it won't be you. It can't."

I pull away from the embrace. "Thanks. Let's go get some breakfast. Mom made some of her famous charcoal bread!"

We walk down the hall to the kitchen, side by side. Mom and Dad have the day off, so they made the food instead of giving the responsibility to me. I sit down at my seat and finish off the bread on my plate in record time. Afterward, I stand and push my chair in.

I go to my bedroom and sit down at my desk. Homework time. I'm not naturally intelligent and have to work hard for my grades, which average B-s. I spend most of my extra time on schoolwork, especially history. It's my worst subject- math is easier because of my eye for detail, and english has come pretty naturally to me.

I open my textbook to the page detailing Beetee Latier's Games. He was the victor who used some crazy contraption to kill off all of the five Careers and one unfortunate thirteen-year-old who just so happened to be in the arena at the time. I always feel bad for that poor kid. Beetee was one of the younger tributes in his Games- only fifteen- and yet he got six kills. I shudder. It must be really horrible to know that you killed people- kids!- especially at his age.

A knock at the door (thankfully) snaps me out of the world of the Games and Victors. Jayne sticks her head in the room.

"Hey, Beulah, time to get ready."

I nod and close the textbook. She shuts the door as I walk to the closet and pull out a red cotton blouse that is more brown than red, and a worn gray skirt that Mom made for some birthday years ago. I put the clothes on and tug my feet into the too-big boots I wear every day. My hair is swept into a quick French braid that I then wind around my head.

I walk out of the bedroom confidently. Jayne said it won't be me. It definitely won't be, I know for sure.

* * *

 _Ethan Valentine (District 12 Male, age 14)_

* * *

 _If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might  
Kryptonite_

* * *

I wake earlier than normal. I usually get up at about seven to help care for the younger kids here at Iago's, but today I wake in a cold sweat at about five-thirty. I can't go back to sleep, not after my nightmare. I dreamt about Jean, my older brother.

Jean was my friend, my brother, my protector. At least, he was. When I was five or six, fifteen-year-old Jean was Reaped into the Games. I remember getting all dressed up that day, and hearing my older brother's name called. He didn't part from the crowd for a good long while, and when he did, it was forced by the Peacekeepers. I remember seering Mama and Papa cry. That was the first time I'd ever seen my parents cry, but it would happen many more times over the next year or so.

I'm told Jean made it to the final seven, where he was killed by the eventual victor, a girl from Two. Mama and Papa cried for days. I was "too young" to watch the Games. We all mourned, but life went on.

Then, a week before the Victory Tour was set to happen, a mine explosion killed my father. This was Mama's breaking point. She became depressed, after losing her oldest son and husband in the space of six months. Eventually she just wasted away, leaving me all alone. I wandered the District for two years, begging for scraps. The orphanage was full every time I went by.

One day, an old man with a strange accent I'd never heard saw me walking down the street. He says seven-year-old me was deathly pale and slim as a broomstick. He picked me up and carried me to his house. This was Iago, my savior. Iago had taken in all the little kids from around the District that the orphanage didn't have room for or just simply rejected. He runs a pawn shop that doubles as a black market.

My dream takes me back to the days that I try not to think about- Reaping days. Ever since Jean died, Reapings have gotten worse. It makes sense that I had the dream today, though, because today is yet another Reaping.

"Ethan?" Iago's strained voice asks. I sit up in bed.  
"Iago," I reply. "Hi."

"You need to get ready. The Reaping's early today. We have to be at the square by eight."

"Okay," I say. I stand up and walk to my closet as Iago leaves, careful not to wake any of the other kids who sleep in my room. I slip on a white button on shirt, along with worn black pants and a cream sweater. As I close the doors, the younger kids in my room begin to wake.

"Ethan?" Oleander's voice. Oleander is the oldest orphan here, besides me, of course. Today is his first Reaping. "Ethan, I'm scared."

I make my way through the bodies asleep on the ground and squat by Oleander. "You don't need to worry, buddy. It won't be you."

Oleander is the only person I am not myself around. He doesn't like the snide, rude remarks I often make, so I try to be kinder and gentler around him.

He nods. "Thanks, Ethan. Will you walk with me today?"

"Course. Wouldn't want to lose you, now, would we?" I ruffle his dark hair.

Oleander smiles. "Nope."

"All right, let's get you ready."

Oleander stands up. He goes to the closet and pulls out a checkered shirt, then puts it on. He leaves his pajama pants on, and I guess he must want to wear those to the Reaping.

We help the younger kids get ready. I make a few rude remarks on accident, but Oleander reminds me to be different around the kids. We all knock on Iago's door when we're ready, and we head out to the Reaping.

* * *

 _Lucilia Graci, District Twelve Escort_

* * *

Today is a big day. I sit on the stage in Twelve, nervous. It's my first year escorting, and I don't want to mess up. The first thing I do as the clock chimes eight is walk to the mike, as I was taught to do. I welcome the citizens of Twelve, all of whom look very grim. I can understand why, but at the same time I wonder if they're always this boring or if it's just a Reaping Day thing.

"Welcome, citizens! I am Lucilia, and I'm so happy to be here in Twelve today to choose one brave young man and woman to compete in this year's Hunger Games. Let's get this party started, shall we?"

I flash a smile to the crowd and walk to the female bowl. I swirl my hand around for a good ten seconds before picking a slip. I walk back to the mike and read off the name.

"Is there a Beulah Sairel out there?"

A girl from the seventeen-year-old section gasps and starts to cry. She is dressed in a red blouse and gray skirt, and her face is adorned with several pimples. She has to stand there for a full minute before the Peacekeeper storm towards her and walk her upstage.  
I welcome Beulah onto the stage and go to pick a boy. I, again, make a show out of the choosing process and keep my hand in the bowl for even longer than I did picking Beulah. I finally choose a slip and walk back to the mike.

"Ethan Valentine, would you come on up?"

A small, skinny boy in the fourteens falls backwards onto his knees. The Peacekeepers are much quicker this time around, and pull him upstage by his arms. Surprisingly, he doesn't cry.

"District Twelve, your tributes! Beulah Sairel and Ethan Valentine!"

* * *

 _Beulah Sairel (District 12 Female, age 17)_

* * *

 _Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days  
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out  
Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days  
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out_

* * *

I've never seen a couch this plush. I trace the designs with my finger as I wait for Mom, Dad and Jayne. They burst through the door after a few moments and I stand. My family crushes me in a big hug.

"Bee!" Jayne sobs. Mom just weeps, and Dad, being the stoic man he is, stands rigid and tall near the two women.

I hug each of them in turn. In each person's ear, I whisper my love.

"Jayne. Calm down, okay? I love you so much. Find a husband, build a family, stay strong. I love you."

Mom is next in line. "Mom, I'm sorry I never see you. Keep Jayne sane, okay? I need you to be strong. I'm going to try to come home."

Finally, I stride to my father's side. For the first time in a long time, I hug him. "Daddy. Daddy, please keep Mom and Jayne strong. They need you. You can't leave again. I love you and I hope you know that."

The Peacekeeper strides into the room almost right after I hug my dad. He pulls me off my father and the rest of my family files out of the room, crying.

It's then that it hits me that I will never see my parents again. I will never meet my nieces and nephews or my brother-in-law. I will never see Twelve.

The depression envelops me and I barely make it through the visit with my friends. WHen they leave, I sink into the couch and just sob.

 _I just want to live._

* * *

 _Ethan Valentine (District 12 Male, age 14)_

* * *

 _If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might  
Kryptonite_

* * *

I hear the screams in the next room coming from my District partner. _Idiot._ Doesn't she know she won't get sponsors if she cries?

Iago and Oleander open the door and I look down. They rush to me and hug me. I really just wish I didn't have to deal with all of this emotional stress. If I cry, I get less sponsors. If I get less sponsors, I die sooner.

Oleander looks me in the eye. "Ethan, come back." His lip trembles as he hands me a locket with a picture of him and me.

I hug him. "I'm going to come home, kiddo. Don't you worry."  
All I can really think about is Jean. I'm going to die and it'll be brutal, just like all the other deaths. I wish I was back at Iago's, asleep and safe.

Iago smiles sadly at me. "Thank you for everything you've done, Ethan. I hope to see you again."  
I nod. Iago's always been a man of few words. We all hug and then the only family I've got leaves.

I'm going to miss them.

* * *

 _Songs used: Stressed Out: twenty one pilots, Kryptonite: 3 Doors Down_

* * *

 **Hi all. I'm sorry for the long wait. I have been very distracted lately. I am glad to be here now, though, and WHOO no more Reapings. Hopefully I can crank out more chapters faster now. :)**

 **I am putting a poll on my profile and I would like it if you guys would vote. Reader feedback will be big in this story, and I want to make sure I'm not keeping tributes who everyone hates alive. (Not that there's anyone everybody hates. c:)**

 **I do need to say though, and I know I'm gonna sound like a huge review whore (READ: I am a huge review whore) but I have noticed a decline in reviews. Like I've said, I will not choose a victor whose submitter is not reviewing simply because I can't tell if they are reading. Also, I know some of you are really busy or on vacation. I am not talking to those of you who actually legitimately cannot review because of that or other reasons. I understand. I am talking to those of you who haven't reviewed since like D3 and are active elsewhere. That's not cool.**

 **Ugh, I feel so bad now. I just feel like reviews help me get better and chapter quality increases for all of us. :P**

 **Anyway. Questions.**

 _Who do you like better, Beulah or Ethan? Why?_

 _Thoughts on Beulah?_

 _Thoughts on Ethan?_

 _Predictions?_

 **See you soon for train rides part one :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Train Rides Part 1

_District One_

* * *

The train for the District One tributes is almost certainly the nicest. The tributes are from the richest District, after all, and they are expecting luxury to their luxury.

Peridot and Heron sit in the fancy dining car, ignoring each other and doing their own thing. The boy tribute samples each and every one of the pastries, while the girl plays with a skinny tube. They look up when their mentors enter the room.

"I'm Generosity, but you know that." the female mentor says, sitting down on the plush bench apart from Heron.

Peridot rolls her eyes. "Yup. Can we get to the good stuff? Skip those cheesy intros and crap. Cut to the chase, Jenny."

Jen shoots Peridot a dirty look, but their male mentor just laughs. "I kind of have to agree with Peridot here on that. We all already know each other, except for me. And I'm Royale Beaumont. That's really all you need to know."

Heron smiles through a pastry. "Hi, Royale. Nice to meet you."

Royale takes his seat next to Jen. "Okay. Now we're going to do our evaluations. This is something the District One Training Academy has told us to do, so please do not feel we're picking on you."

"We don't have to take our clothes off, do we?" Peridot pipes up sarcastically.

"That's up to Jen, but her mind could change at any time. I'd suggest not getting on her nerves. Right now it's no." Royale answers. "Now, as I was _saying_ , we are going to do two evaluations. The physical evaluation is first. We'll have you stand and we will point out anything we think is noteworthy, similar to the twelve-year-old evaluation at home, except this time you can leave your clothes on. After that, we will watch the Reapings. We'll ask you to comment on each District's tributes, and we'll take notes on your reactions and ideas. This one isn't so much an evaluation, it's more us settling our curiosity on your thought process. Any questions?"  
"Nope," the tributes reply in unison.

Jen nods. "All right, let's start with Peridot. Stand up."

Peridot places the tube she was playing with in her pocket and stands. She walks to the aisle.

Royale speaks up. "Okay. Let's start with hair. I think the waves are nice and we should tell the stylists to keep them. I can tell the blonde's a dye. Next is the face, but there's nothing worth mentioning there. After that, we go to the build and general body shape. Jen, I'll let you take this."

"Skinny, too skinny for a District One girl. Body pads will have to be ordered, but that's the stylist's job. Your curves are almost nonexistent, so sexy won't work too well. Your long legs are pretty, but girl, what did you do to yourself?"  
"It's a long story." Peridot grumbles, cheeks a bright red.

Royale smirks. "You'll tell us in training, then. Thank you, Peridot, you may sit. Heron, head up here."

The older boy walks to the aisle, still stuffing his face with the pastries.

"Okay, so Heron. Your hair is a nice natural blonde, and the style's fine for now. You're growing some stubble. Your eyes are a very nice color, so we won't need contacts. You're agile, I can tell. Not much muscle and instead, a lot of height. You're pretty tall. Jen, did I cover everything?"

"Pretty much. I would say to up the ante on the clothes. I know I said to stick to plain for the Reapings, but after, we need to step it up a notch. You may sit."

Relieved, Heron strides back to his seat. "Can we watch the Reapings?"

"Sure. Pull them up, Jen." Royale says.

The tributes settle into the booths and stare at the screen overhead. The Reapings start and the tributes focus on the screen, ready to take notes.

* * *

 _District Eight_

* * *

"He's up! He's up!" A fourteen-year-old girl races down the luxurious train car, yelling for the mentors. She ignores all the food, which is unusual for an Eight tribute, but then again, many of Taffeta's behaviors are unusual for her kind.

The mentors stand. Adeline Lienen rushes off to the other tribute's room and Woof Casino moves to stand by Taffeta.

"Thank you for waking Sonny up, Taffeta," Woof says.

Taffeta nods. "Once he gets out here, can we eat finally?"

Woof smiles at the girl, surprised by her tendency to switch moods every which way- first distraught at the reaping, then even more distraught during her goodbyes. Urgent, especially when she found that her Partner was passed out, then demanding. What would be next? "Yes, we can. Head down to the dining car, it's two cars in the back of this one. There should be Avoxes in there ready to save you as soon as you arrive."

She cocks her head. "Avoxes?"

"The servants of the Capitol. They're traitors and criminals, petty thieves and runaways, that had their tongues cut out in punishment for their crimes. They are here to serve you."

"Oh, that's terrible!"

Woof shrugs. "Not terrible, fitting punishment. They are criminals."

"Well, if you say so. I'm going down to the car now." With that, she walks briskly off down the aisle of tables and heads to the doors. They open automatically, and Taffeta, not used to the luxurious door system, does a double take before walking through them.

Woof chuckles, then turns to go to the bedroom cars. He walks down the halls and stops in front of the male tribute's door and raps on it with a knuckle before entering. His colleague, Adeline, sits in front of the bed that the child is draped over.

"Hi, Woof," the boy says meekly.

"Hello, Sonny. How are you enjoying the Capitol train?" Woof replies.

Sonny cracks a grin. "I mean, I haven't seen much of it, but what I have seen is very… silky."

Woof and Adeline laugh. "That's the first time I've heard that one," Adeline remarks. "Are you feeling well enough to have lunch?"  
"Depends. What's for lunch?"

Woof answers this time. "Sandwiches and soda with potato chips and fruit."

The boy sits up, fast. "Yum! Of course!"

Adeline chuckles, extending her hand to help the fourteen-year-old climb off the bed. "Take it easy," she warns, smiling. "Don't want you getting hurt before the Games. That wouldn't go well for any of us."

Sonny's expression darkens. "Can we not talk about that?"  
The boy and mentors begin the walk down the hall as Woof explains to Sonny that he needs to come to grips with his future, and accept that he won't live much longer. "Don't take this the wrong way, though. We're all going to support you, your mentors and escort and stylists. We believe in you."

They enter the dining car, and Taffeta looks up from stuffing her face to smile at her District partner and mentors. "Hey!" she exclaims through a bite of sandwich, motioning for the others to come.

Sonny rushes toward the table. "Wow! Look at all this food! Is this all for us?"

Adeline shares a concerned glance with Woof. This wasn't even remotely close to a large meal in the Capitol, and the kids were impressed. What did that say about their home lives? "Yes, Sonny, dig in."

The boy grabs a plate and piles it high with turkey sandwiches and chips, adding a few strawberries in where they fit. It teeters as he carries it to the seat across from Taffeta. The Mentors sit down and grab food of their own.

"Enjoy, kiddos." Adeline says.

The underlying tone that wasn't said but instead felt in that room was this: _Enjoy, kids, because you won't be able to in a few weeks._

* * *

 _District Four_

* * *

The redheaded girl tribute sits by herself on a couch while her District partner sits in front of a mirror, grooming his already-perfect hair. She fiddles with an abalone necklace, given to her by her family.

The doors slide open and the infamous Coralie Harp and Nemo Finns walk through them. Abalone looks up, and Aqui turns in his chair.

"Welcome to the Capitol train, kiddos!" Coralie exclaims, sweeping her arms in a wide circle around her.

Aqui rolls his eyes. "I don't know about Abalone over there, but me? I'm not a child. I am seventeen, thank you very much."

"Abby," a whisper comes from the girl on the couch.

"What was that, dearie?" Nemo asks, looking over at Abalone.

She looks at her hands again. "Call me Abby, please."

"Okay, Abby. And Aqui, right?" Let's grab a seat over here and watch the Reapings, shall we?"

The kids nod. Abby stands slowly, breathing hard. Aqui looks over at her and rolls his eyes again, dismissively this time. He snaps his compact case shut and places his hairbrush back on the table where he found it, then follows Abby to the couch where their mentors sit.

They plop onto the couch, Abby next to Nemo, Coralie next, and finally Aqui on the end.

Coralie smiles. "I like to watch the Reapings before we talk strategy. It gives me an idea of how your minds work, so please comment on anything you see that stands out to you. You can even discuss potential allies."

Aqui nods and Abby digs herself further into the couch.

The TV flickers on with the click of a remote. The scene shows a polished marble building with a large sign reading "District One Justice Building".

The escort introduces herself and moves to pick the name from the girls' bowl. She reaches in and pulls out a name. It's an elaborate name, like many of the ones in District One, and a child steps into the aisle. However, she gets no further than two steps before a skinny blonde girl lunges out of the seventeens, replacing the girl. She introduces herself as Peridot James.

Her partner's selection process is similar, with a boy from the eighteens replacing the Reaped boy. He's lean and muscled, though tall, and has platinum blonde hair.

Aqui smiles upon seeing the two. "Ally material. They look trained. I'm liking them."

The next pair is much different. For one, the atmosphere in the Square is more solemn, as if the District feels less exuberance and more respect for its tributes. The girl is small and brunette, reaching from the fifteens and racing up the steps. She has noticeable muscles and is quick, but still Aqui frowns. "Young."

The boy is a rather tall gentleman with features that differ from any of the other tributes so far. He steps from the seventeens with confidence, but doesn't have the same spring in his step as the girl.

Aqui frowns again. "I'm much more iffy on this pair. The girl looks eager, and though that's a good thing, she would slow us down since she's young. The boy looks awfully reluctant to me. We'll observe at training."

The seal of District Three flashes and a brown brick building shows. A girl of merely thirteen is chosen for the females. She has long brown hair and deep chocolate eyes, and she cries when she hears her name. Abby's eyes widen in pity, but her partner rolls his. "Idiot."

The boy is older, seventeen, and much more composed. He also has dark hair. When he hears his name called, he freezes. It takes a minute for him to realize what is happening, but then he plasters a stiff smile on his face.

"I don't think either are worth checking out. The girl's bloodbath for sure, the boy could go farther."

The tributes settle back into the couch and wait to watch their own Reaping. The nervous looks on their faces say it all- they don't want to see themselves. But they do.

* * *

 _District Nine_

* * *

Semolina sits on the couch, with her partner, Demetrius, perched next to her. Their mentor sits in the middle. They're watching the Reapings.

Rysie, the mentor from Nine, pauses the screen halfway through the intro to the District Four Reapings. "Thoughts so far?"

Semolina raises her hand. "The girl from One is extremely thin for her type. The boy's too confident, so is the girl from Two. I think the boy from Two doesn't want to volunteer. The girl from Three, as much as I hate to say it, is probably a bloodbath. The boy… who knows? He's even a possible ally."

Rysie nods. "Demetrius?"

"I agree."

"Okay. Let's finish up," she says, pressing the button once more. The girl from Four is Reaped, which takes both the tributes by surprise. She has long red hair in waves down her back, and she cries and almost collapsed when she hears her name. The boy is tall, from the seventeens, and lunges forward confidently to take the place of another boy.

District Five hails a girl who has sandy blonde hair, who stays quite calm as she walks from her spot in the fourteens to the stage. Her partner, a boy of twelve who is blonde and small, who breaks down and has to be carried to the stage, where he faints.

Six follows, with a brunette fourteen-year-old girl who looks really unsure of herself as she is paraded upstage. She is followed by a tall, lanky boy from the seventeens. A girl's wail comes from the viewing area when his name is called.

Again, Rysie pauses. "Demetrius, let's have you share, okay? What do you think of these six?"

Demetrius ponders. "Well, the Four girl and the Five boy don't seem like great allies. They broke down pretty bad. I think the boy from Six is the best bet as of now. Let's keep going, though."

The mentor turns the screen back on.

Seven's next, and the girl is a twelve-year-old with long, straight brown hair and green eyes that quickly grow wide with anger as she makes her way upstage. She is followed by a tall boy with dark hair, who looks muscled in the arms and strong. He manages to keep composed, but barely.

After Seven fades out, Eight appears. A lanky brunette girl is chosen, and she has what looks like an anxiety attack from her spot in the fourteens. She eventually is carried up by the Peacekeepers and is followed by another fourteen-year-old. Unlike the girl, the blonde fourteen-year-old boy has an attitude. He curses out the escort and Capitol, and the screen fades to black before the Escort announces the tributes.

The tributes from Nine tense as their District's Justice Building appears onscreen. Semolina's Reaping comes first, and her mouth forms a thin line as the name of the first girl, the one who hadn't made it to the Reaping, is called.

Semolina rolls her eyes. "I don't know why they haven't updated their roll-taking procedures."

After what seems like years, the Escort finally figures out what happens and draws Semolina's name from the bowl. Demetrius looks down as his name is called onscreen, afraid to see his reaction.

Rysie pauses the TV and points to Semolina. "Thoughts?"

"I feel like the boy from Eight could be valuable, but having an alliance with him could be bad, too. He's obviously a rebel, so the Capitol will give him a hard time in the Arena. That could backfire on allies of his. The boy from Seven seems very strong physically, but maybe not so much mentally. He's better than his partner, though, who seems very weak. So does the Eight girl."

Demetrius pipes up. "I'm thinking of talking to the Seven boy and setting up an alliance. I'd say that out of the tributes so far, he's my best bet."

Rysie nods. "All right. Let's finish this up and then we'll eat."

The image onscreen moves once more, flashing the seal of District Ten. The girl is chosen, a thirteen-year-old with brown hair that acts similar to many of the other young tributes when she hears her name. Her District Partner is a stocky dark-skinned boy that messes with his hands as he walks upstage. He doesn't cry, though, and the tributes from Nine nod approvingly.

The eleventh District's Reaping is a surprise. The sixteen-year-old girl, a volunteer, is dark-skinned and carries a cane.

"Is she blind?" Demetrius wonders. "I wish I knew why she volunteered."

The boy is also dark in complexion, and lanky. He plays with his hands, like the boy from Ten, and cried a little, but not much.

The tributes from Twelve are pretty standard, the girl a seventeen-year-old Seam child who has an emotional breakdown when she is called, and the boy a fourteen-year old who also comes from the Seam. He falls backward on to his knees before he is escorted onstage by Peacekeepers.

The program ends and Rysie turns to the tributes.

Semolina speaks up. "The girl from Ten's a bloodbath. The boy could go farther. Eleven is different; I feel like the girl's a bloodbath simply because she's blind, but the boy could go either way. Twelve are bloodbaths."

Demetrius nods in agreement. "I'd say the girl from Twelve could make it past."

Rysie smiles. "Good observations, let's eat!"

* * *

 **Whew, that was the longest chapter so far. Almost 3k words! I hope you enjoyed seeing these guys again. Next chapter will cover 4 more Districts, then the last train ride chapter will cover the last 4.**

 **I'm keeping the poll up until the end of train rides, so go vote if you haven't already!**

 **Questions!**

 _What was your favorite and least favorite District in this chapter?_

 _Do you like longer (2.5k or more) or shorter (2.5k or less) chapters? I tend to write shorter things, but if you guys like longer ones I can work on that._

 _And finally, a random question: Favorite band/singer?_

 **I hope you enjoyed :) See you later!**


	16. Chapter 16: Train Rides Part 2

_District Seven_

* * *

The tributes from Seven, Aino and Delancey, get on splendidly. They don't seem to want to be allies- the girl wants to find allies her own age- but they click perfectly and Delancey was able to calm Aino's crying within a few minutes.

They sit on the couch, facing each other. Aino had found a deck of cards and Delancey had suggested Go Fish, which had brightened Aino's mood almost immediately.

"Got a seven?" Delancey asks Aino, who shakes her head.

"Go fish."

Delancey shrugs and pulls a card off the top of the pile. He sticks it, a nine of spades, into his hand and continues the game. "Nine?"  
"Awww!" Aino cries playfully. She draws the nine of hearts from her hand and slides it to Delancey, who fistpumps.

The door slides open and both tributes swivel their heads to look. A slender, blonde girl looking to be about seventeen comes in, followed by a muscular man with dark hair and stubble. The man throws his arm around the girl's shoulders, and she looks down.

"Hey, kiddos. I'm Micah Larson, and I'm your mentor this year. This is Breea, the other mentor, but as you can tell, she's not really in the happiest mood. How is the train treating you so far?"

Delancey stands, pulling Aino with him. He sticks out his hand for Micah to shake, and Micah does. "Delancey Pinefield, and thank you, the train's perfect."

Aino's lip trembles as she is reminded why she is on this luxurious train in the first place. The Games. "Aino Tamminen," she says as bravely as she can. Then she seems to remember her manners, and says, "I am doing well, thank you. How about yourself?"

Micah smiles. "I'm fine, thanks, Aino. Shall we go pull up some food and have a little talk?"  
Breea lifts her head up. "I'll get a few menus." She rushes off, obviously happy to get away from her task of mentoring Aino and Delancey.

Micah claps Delancey on the shoulder. "It's her first year, don't worry. She'll be fine once she gets to know you."

 _That's last year's Victor?_ Aino thinks. Apparently so. She doesn't remember the years before very well, only that Mom and Dad hadn't let her watch any of the deaths. And the parcels they got last year. _That makes sense. That explains the parcels._

The three sit at a tall table, Aino swinging her short legs above the ground and Delancey fidgeting with a small metal bracelet.

Breea enters the room carrying a stack of papers. She passes one to each of the three sitting at the table and places one in the seat next to Micah, sitting in it.

"So. I know your names. And nothing else. Tell me about yourselves," Micah says as they all pick up the menus. Aino clamps her mouth shut and looks down the list of food choices, while Delancey opens his mouth to talk.

"I'm fifteen, and I think I'm pretty boring. I have a twin sister and two brothers, and my father and Harley- that's my sister- and I all take care of the boys. My mom… well, I'm not actually sure what happened to her. I work in the lumber yards, so I know my way around an axe."  
Micah nods. Breea smiles. She got a good crop this year, at least from the boys. Maybe she'll even bring home a Victor in her first year.

"Aino. I'm thirteen, apparently. My mom and dad are super overprotective, like, they don't even let me watch the Games. I'm an only child, but my best friend is Milla, who's like my second mom. She's fifteen." Aino makes a face. "At least, I think she's fifteen. Who knows these days?"

An Avox appears, carrying platters of appetizers. Everyone orders and digs into the breadsticks, grateful for the excuse to stay silent.

* * *

 _District Five_

* * *

"Ready?" Solario whispers. His District partner, Camilla, nods nervously. She holds up the bucket, and the water inside sloshes around. Solario places a finger to his lips.

He opens the door. Inside, their Escort, Hilaria, sleeps, nestled inside a blanket on the comfy beds all the District Five representatives were provided. She's taken off the tall brown-and-red wig she'd worn for the Reapings and first part of the Train Ride. The kids stifle laughs. She has matted, dark blonde hair like Camilla's own that falls to her chin. It's definitely a weird sight.

Camilla hands Solario the bucket and grabs a chair from the desk in the corner of Hilaria's room. She brings it quietly back to the door and steps onto it. Solario extends his hand, bucket's handle clasped in between the fingers, and Camilla takes the bucket.

She carefully opens the door just enough for the two to escape after the prank is set, then balances the full bucket of water on the top of the door, hugging the wall. Her hands fly to her mouth as the bucket teeters, but eventually it stabilizes.

Camilla flashes Solario a thumbs up and steps down from the chair. She picks it up and takes it back to its rightful location, then slips through the sliver in between the door and all, careful not to bump the door.

Solario follows, and the two rush down the hall of the train. Once they get to the dining car, the doors open for them and they bend over laughing, Camilla slightly less than Solario.

"That was fantastic! I can't imagine her face when she goes through that door and- _whoooosh!_ \- water!" Solario chokes between giggles.

Camilla suddenly stops laughing. "Oh, no. That's what I'm worried about. What if she turns down all our sponsors or something to get us back? We can't have that, Solario. This was a reckless prank."

Solario gives Camilla a funny look. "What do you mean? Of course it's a reckless prank! That's what makes it fun, silly!"

"But what if she gets mad? I say we go take that bucket back down. It's a bad idea, Sol. I'm sorry I ever went along with it."

The boy's face droops. "But Camilla, you said we could have a bit of fun! The mentors won't get mad, will they? It's just water, after all!"

Camilla's face softens. He reminds her of Nicoline and the reckless pranks the twins would play before the divorce. "Fine. We can leave the water. But- if the mentors do get mad, it's not my fault! Keep that in mind."

The frown that previously adorned Solario's face turns quickly to a smile. He rushes to Camilla, and she awkwardly opens her arms. _This is not what I had planned! What do I do with a fricking twelve-year-old boy in my arms?_ She reluctantly pats Solario's head. He smiles against her side, obviously not noticing how awkward this action is for Camilla.

Solario pulls away and takes a deep breath. "I noticed that you are very logical. I think that's a great thing to have in your arsenal, especially if we're gonna have to kill other kids." He gulps. "Would you be my ally?"

Camilla looks taken aback. She runs through all the possible outcomes of becoming allies with a twelve-year-old: _He might betray me, heck, I might have to betray him… I don't know if I can handle that. But he seems smart, and friendly, and… I think that'll outweigh the cons._

"I'd love to be your ally, Solario," she smiles and says.

* * *

 _District Eleven_

* * *

Seeder Derma knocks on Tilly Husk's door. The girl in question is sprawled out on the huge bed, not really doing anything but instead thinking.

Tilly sits up on the covers and grants Seeder access to her room, albeit nervously. She's never heard this voice. Maybe it's her mentor?

As it turns out, Tilly's right. She is greeted by a hello, and listens closely for the footsteps that mean her mentor is walking towards her. They don't come.

"Tilly, we're going to eat. Want to come? We also wanted to talk strategy, especially whether you and Barric will be allying."

"Nope. I don't want allies. They'll slow me down. And they could betray me," Tilly replies. She stands, though, and takes her cane from its perch. Seeder walks briskly to help Tilly maneuver to the door, down the hall, and into the dining car.

"Well, look who's here," a man's voice says, ringing through the dining car. "I'm Spud, and I'll have you know I'm of absolutely no help to you."

Barric Kerner, who sits uncomfortably next to Spud, shifts in his seat. "Hey, Tilly," he says, deliberately changing the subject. "How are you today?"

Tilly doesn't know this voice either. "Fine, thanks. I am, however, going to have to ask who you are. I can't tell, since I'm blind and all."

"Barric Kerner. I'm your District partner, and I hope to be more than that. Friends, hopefully."

"Well, Barric Kerner, if you're going to ask for an alliance, I'm going to have to kindly decline. I don't think allies will help me at all, and I'm certainly of no help to them." Tilly chooses her words carefully, deliberating whether to tell Barric the real reason why she doesn't want allies- they'll slow her down.  
"I respect that." Barric smiles, but Tilly cannot see it. Instead she detects a trace of sadness and betrayal in Barric's voice.

"Take a seat, Tilly. Let's eat and talk strategy." Seeder leads Tilly to a chair next to Barric and two away from Spud. "What sounds good? We can make anything."  
"Anything?!" the tributes gasp in unison.

"Anything," Spud laughs, taking a drink from his wineglass. "Sandwiches to burgers to pizza to noodles and anything in between."

"I'd like some salad," Tilly pipes up.

Barric goes next. "Lasagna?"

Seeder rings a bell and calls for an Avox. "We'd like a chef salad, a plate of lasagna, and a pizza. And sodas."

The Avox nods and leaves. The mentors make eye contact and Seeder launches into her yearly speech. "After lunch, we'll watch the Reapings. Tilly, I will give you play-by-plays. Barric, I expect you to keep an eye out for potential threats and allies. Afterwards, we will sit and get to know one another. We'll touch on strengths and weaknesses at lunch, but after, we'll dive into your personalities. Spud here isn't the greatest mentor, so we'll train the two of you together, but by no means should you feel like you have to ally. Okay with everyone?"  
The tributes nod.

"Okay. Let's start with Tilly. Strengths?"

Tilly smiles. "I don't think this is technically a strength, but I've got a great voice. I'm pretty calm and I don't get worked up easily, and I can't judge a book by it's cover because I can't see the cover. My weaknesses are these: obviously, I'm blind, but also, I'm awkward and antisocial. I won't make friends easily."

Barric goes next. "I'm kind and I will make allies pretty quick. Hopefully. I'm creative, so I could maybe even come up with a weapon of some sort without going to the Bloodbath. However, I've never had formal weapons training, and I have been told I'm arrogant and oversensitive."

The food arrives and everyone digs in. "Thanks, guys," Seeder says. "We'll dive into this more later. For now, just enjoy your food."

* * *

 _District Two_

* * *

Katie and Gabriel don't get along well. It makes sense, too- they're complete opposites. Katie, a younger, extroverted girl with a sharp hunger for the Games and a determination to win, and Gabriel, an older boy who hates to talk and won't even join the Careers. As of now, the tributes sit on opposite sides of the main train car, Katie reading a book she found on a table and Gabriel just thinking.

Their mentors enter the room, and both tributes look up. Athena Harner, their female mentor, holds a set of silverware and a plate. Allred James, the male mentor, has a handful of pencils and a few papers.

"Welcome to the train, tributes. I'm Allred, your mentor, and I hope to help you as much as possible. Athena's not the greatest mentor, so I'd recommend training together, but it's up to the both of you," Allred introduces himself, motioning to Athena.

"I want to train alone, preferably with Athena," Katie says, looking at Athena for confirmation. The mentor nods.

"Cool. That means I'm with Gabriel. For today, we're going to work together so I can analyze your ability to work in a group, but afterward, we'll split up. Take a seat at the table."

Gabriel reluctantly stands and walks slowly to the dining table, as opposed to Katie, who bounds out of her seat to the table.

"Well, I can certainly tell who's excited! Katie, tell us about yourself." Athena says, smiling politely at Katie.

"I'm Kathryn Willburn, but don't call me that. If you do, I promise you'll regret it. Call me Katie, please. I'm not from the Academy, as I'm sure you know. My dad trained me, and apparently I'm as good or better than many eighteen-year-olds."

Athena nods. "Okay. Good to know. We'll have to work on your manners before the Interviews, since we can't have a selfish, stuck-up brat go out there and represent Two."

Katie frowns. "Stuck-up? Selfish?"

"From what I can tell, yes. You seem overconfident and bratty, like you think you're better than everyone." Allred breaks in.

"Well, I am better." Katie begins to stand, but is cut off by Allred.

"Oooookay. Let's move on to Gabriel."

Gabriel ponders what to say. Once he has the right words, he speaks. "I'm Gabriel Alderyne. I don't want to be here. I'm not joining the Careers."

The mentors and Katie all raise their eyebrows. "Why ever not?" asks Athena.

"I… I just don't think I am a good fit for that group. They're Games-hungry and brutal, and I'm not. I'll maybe find other, strong allies, but for now, I'm going at it alone."

"Well, that's fantastic," Allred says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "A fifteen-year-old with no experience at the Academy, and a boy who doesn't want to win… I'm so excited for this year." He gets up and storms out, not even caring when Athena yells for him to come back.

"I think now would be a perfect time to work on some table manners!" Athena says after giving up on convincing Allred to come back. She stands up and passes out silverware and plates to each tribute, both of whom give her funny looks. "All right. Pick up your knife. Do either of you know where this goes in relation to the plate?"

No answer.

"Looks like we've got work to do. Put it on the right hand side of the plate. Its blade should face towards the plate. Got it?"

The tributes exchange a funny glance, then place their knives in the correct area.

Their mentor looks pleased as she gives the next direction. "Forks next!"

The useless lesson continues, Athena praising each correct silverware placement. After they've set a full spot at the table, Athena dismisses the tributes.

* * *

 **Hey everyone! I'm back…**

 **So this chapter isn't my best, that's for sure. I feel like 7, 11 and 2 are all really similar, but hopefully that's not the case. I have an announcement, though…**

 **I updated the blog, and now mentors and escorts are included. Go check it out! The address is hearthewindblowhg . weebly . com**

 **Questions:**

 _Favorite District in the chapter?_

 _Who's your favorite Mentor from the blog?_

 _Who's your favorite Escort from the blog?_

 **See you all later for the final train chapter!**


	17. Chapter 17: Train Rides Part 3

_District Six_

* * *

Jack sits in his bedroom, watching the Reapings. He holds a notepad and a pen he'd conveniently found in the top drawer of his bedside table. For each tribute he sees, he scribbles notes about appearance, reaction to their Reaping, and probability of allying (hopefully with him). He's halfway through District Ten when his District partner knocks at the door.

"Jack?"

Jack pauses the TV. "Come in, Kiara."

The fourteen-year-old girl opens the door a crack. She peeks inside the room, then slips through the door to stand by the couch Jack sits on. "What's up?"

"I'm watching the Reapings. Want to help me take notes?"

Kiara wrinkles her nose. "Notes? Trust me, I'm terrible at taking notes. Do you mind if I read what you've got so far, though?"

Jack smiles. "It doesn't matter how good at note-taking you are- I'm just writing down observations. But I don't mind if you read the notes." He hands Kiara the notepad.

She looks over his notes, nodding occasionally. Her mouth forms into a thin line as she hands the pad back to Jack.

"Well, they're good observations. I'd personally add something about their threat level, but this is fine." Her facial expression turns sour. "I just can't believe they chose us. Thousands of eligible kids, and we were the two. What are the odds?"

Jack's face falls. "I know."

"Ack, sorry, that was really random. I'm very sorry you have to put up with me."

"No worries. Trust me, I'm patient. And why are you so apologetic? You didn't do anything wrong."

Kiara's face lifts a bit, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I don't know, honestly. I always feel like this, though. I've got really low self-esteem and, well, I'm just not a great person." She tentatively perches on the arm rest of the couch Jack's sitting on.

"Oh, kiddo. You're not a bad person, not by any means." Jack reassures her. "I really don't mind if you're awkward. I used to be the same way."

The half smile that was previously on Kiara's face lifts into a full one. "Thanks. I needed that." SHe stands. "I'm going to head to the dining car, so maybe we can meet Harleigh and Hover. Yo0u want to tag along?"

Jack puts down his pen and pad. "Sure. I'm kinda hungry, so maybe we can get some food, too."

"'Course."

They walk out of Jack's room into the hall, then to the dining car. Harleigh Hammerson, the Victor of the 40th Hunger Games and their female mentor, sits at the bar, but slips down from the chair when she hears her tributes enter.

"Hey guys!" she exclaims. "I'm Harleigh Hammerson, and I'll be one of your mentors. Hover's not here, though- he's probably off with his morphling." Harleigh's voice drops to a whisper. "He's addicted to that stuff. I thought I'd help you guys both out, if you're both okay training together, of course?"

"Not a problem with me," Jack says, turning to Kiara. "You?"

"Nope, but I don't want to ally with anyone. So don't expect us to be best buds or anything."

Harleigh laughs. "Course not. That's no problem at all. So, have either of you watched the Reapings yet?"

Jack raises his hand. "I got halfway through Ten. I took notes, too. Want me to go get them?"

Kiara looks down at her hands. _Why didn't I agree to help take notes? I'm no help at all._

"Sure!" says Harleigh. Jack runs out of the room to grab his notepad. Kiara's head remains down.

He returns minutes later with a yellow legal pad. As he slaps it down on the table, Kiara lifts her head up.

"All right. Let's take a look."

The tributes and Harleigh collaborate on the notes Jack took for a while, until the Avoxes bring lunch. They enjoy the breadsticks and salad, grateful for the delicious meal.

* * *

 _District Three_

* * *

Nokia sits across from her friend, Solder. It's just their luck that they were both chosen for the Games. At least she'll have at least one reliable ally.

"Solder, would you help me with this sudoku?" she asks, holding up the math game she'd found in the bedside table and picked up for a lack of anything better to do.

Solder smiles. "Yeah, sure thing. Can I see?"

Nokia hands him the Sudoku, and he looks briefly at it before spotting the error.

"That should be a seven."

"Oh, that helps. Thanks, Solder."

Solder nods, opening his mouth to speak. But before the words come out, the doors to the train car open and the mentors for the two, Skype and Beetee, walk into the car.

"Hello, guys," Beete says. He looks really young, only barely older than Solder and maybe not even that. His skin is an ashen color, and his hair is dark. He looks almost like Solder. "I'm nervous, but you can call me Beetee." He laughs a bit, and elbows Skype in the side. She chuckles, but is obviously not amused by the pun.

Beetee continues talking. "Sorry. That was a bad joke. For real though, call me Beetee. This here is Skype. I'm sure you're wondering how old I am. I'm eighteen."

Nokia's eyes widen. "Wow, that's pretty young to be a mentor."

Skype chortles. "Not really. Sweetie, if you were to win, they'd make you mentor the next year. How old are you, thirteen? That would truly be a sight to behold."

Solder throws a protective arm around Nokia. Skype is drunk, without a doubt. Her voice drips with sarcasm and it's obvious she has no hope for their tributes.

"Beetee, what are your thoughts on alliances? I know Nokia from home and I feel obligated to protect her." Solder speaks up for the first time.

"Alliances are a good idea if you are sure you can handle it. I'm pretty sure you two can, since I've looked at both your backgrounds and… well, let's just say I'm sure you two are both pretty tough. Do you both trust each other?"

"Yes," Nokia and Solder reply in unison. Nokia smiles up at Solder.

"Well, then, I'd advise allying."

Solder smiles. "Deal."

Nokia grins at Beetee, then Solder. She grabs her new ally's hand and pulls him to the dining table, where they both sit. Beetee chuckles and Skype shakes her head in disdain, but the two both follow their tributes to the table.

Skype rings a bell, and before long, a young Avox appears. She can't be much older than Nokia, and is dressed in a red gown and gold flats. She has black hair cropped short, almost to her chin.

Nokia's eyes widen. "Are you okay? Can I help you? Is there-"

Solder places a hand on Nokia's shoulder as the Avox distributes menus to each tribute. "She can't talk."

"Oh, she's mute?" Nokia gasps. "That's horrible. Are you sure I can't do anything to help?"

Beetee's face is bright red. "Nokia, that's an Avox. She was taken into custody of the Capitol and had her tongue removed as punishment for her crimes. Leave her be, she is here to serve us."

Nokia cocks her head to the left. "That doesn't make sense."

"Nokia, darling, she's not here to be your friend. She's a traitor and a backstabber. She's here to be punished. Now order!" Skype drawls, taking a drink from the wineglass the girl places in front of her.

Shakily, Nokia nods. "I'll have a garden salad, please." She leans her head towards Solder. "I feel bad."

"Me too, but there's nothing we can do for her." Solder whispers back.

Then and there, Nokia decided she would prove Solder wrong. She would learn the Avox's name. She would help with all the chores she could. She would befriend this girl.

* * *

 _District Twelve_

* * *

Beulah and Ethan are complete opposites. Beulah, an older girl with a personable tendency, and Ethan, a younger boy with a snarky one, don't get along well, especially seeing as neither got much sleep.

Ethan sits on a couch in the main car, doodling on a notepad. His District partner scoots as far as she can away from him, trying desperately not to be distracted from her reading by Ethan's humming. Eventually, she can't take it anymore.

"Ethan! Could you stop humming?"

"Hm?" Ethan looks up from his pad, pencil poised above the paper and ready to draw.

"Stop humming, I said. It's getting quite annoying."

Ethan shrugs. "Sure. Sorry."

He goes back to his art and Beulah back to her book, each sitting in silence except for the occasional page turn and the pretty-much-constant noise of the pencil in Ethan's hand scratching against the paper.

It doesn't last.

Ethan starts to hum again, purely to annoy Beulah, who slaps her book shut.

"Be quiet!" she yells.  
Ethan doesn't look up as he retorts, "Go to your bedroom if you don't like my humming."

"Well, maybe you should stop, so neither of us have to leave. Why can't we all just be friends?"

"Maybe because we're going to kill each other- literally- in a few days?" Ethan snaps. "Ever think of that?"

Beulah rolls her eyes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I really am not going to kill anyone. I'm not a monster."

"Good luck surviving, then. I hope that'll work out well for you."

Beulah raises her book in the air, ready to crack its hardcover binding down on Ethan's head, but the door slides open before she can swing her arm down.

"Beulah! What do you think you're doing?" yells Jessamyn, their mentor. Beulah slowly drops her arm to her side, looking down at Ethan's scared face.

"She was about to hit me with her book! All I did was say she could go to her room if she wanted," Ethan pouts.

"Well, now she doesn't have a choice. In fact, neither of you do. Go to the rooms Lucilia showed you, presto! Shoo! I won't have fights breaking out on the train, not under my watch."

Ethan stands up and shoots Beulah a snide glance as he walks to his room. Beulah turns her nose up, but it's obvious that she's not pleased due to her red cheeks and glaring eyes.

The doors slam and Jessamyn sighs. Of course she had to get the worst pair she'd ever had so far, topping Colette and Jeremy from the 42nd. And that's saying something, seeing as the girl cried the whole trip- even the chariot ride and interviews!- and the boy made fun of her the whole time. They both died in the bloodbath, and Jessamyn hopes for the sake of this year's tributes that that won't repeat.

She places her head in her hands, and plops down on the couch. She picks up the pad Ethan had been drawing on, and scans the drawings. She stops and looks closer at one in particular.

It's a silhouette drawing of two crossed swords and a body underneath, done in red. Next to it, there's a sentence.

"THE ODDS ARE NEVER IN OUR FAVOR"

Jessamyn shakes her head. Ethan obviously hates the Capitol, enough that he doesn't care what happens to him. If they find this, the Gamemakers will kill him in the worst way possible.

She stands to go and yell at Ethan for his stupidity, but then realizes it'll have to wait.

The horn on the train sounds and the tracks turn, swinging everything in the room slightly to the left. Jessamyn peeks out the window.

They've arrived in the Capitol.

* * *

 _District Ten_

* * *

"Smile and wave, kids! Smile bigger, Bri!"

Sabrina and Duroc stand at the window of the train, waving to the people standing in the crowd. They are all dressed in vibrant, bright colors, ones that contrast the grays and whites of the Capitol streets and buildings. Bri looks down at her own purple dress, fancy in comparison to the one she wore at the Reaping. It's drab up against such extravagant gowns and hair colors as the ones worn by the Capitolites.

"Is this dress okay? Should I go change? I want to make a good impression." she asks her mentor, Bronco.

Bronco shakes his head. "You look very pretty, Sabrina. There are many tributes who haven't bathed in days by the time they show up. Trust me, you'll do great. Just smile, smile and wave."

Bri smiles at him, then turns back to the window to wave.

Duroc turns to Bronco. "Is Flutter okay?"

Flutter, the other mentor, sits in the back of the room, head in between her knees. She mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, trying to stay calm.

Bronco nods. "Yeah, she always does this. I think the route and the cheering remind her of her own Games. Don't worry about her."

Duroc nods slowly, still concerned. He keeps waving until the train jolts to a stop.

"All right, guys, it's time to get off now. The Capitolites will ask lots of interview questions, but save your answers for the interviews with Caela Flickerman the night before the Games. Try and look straight forward, please. Let's go."

The tributes retreat from the window, taking deep breaths. _This is really happening_. They each turn towards the door on the far side of the car, then walk through it.

Immediately, Duroc instinctively covers his ears. The noise is eardrum-shattering. The Capitolites in the front of the crowd outstretch their arms as much as they can, trying to brush their fingers against Duroc's dark arm or touch the fabric of Bri's dress. As instructed, the tributes walk straight forward, not answering any questions or looking at any specific Capitol citizen.

Once they are through the majority of the crowd, their mentor drops his arms from the kids' backs. They are given a gentle nudge by the butts of the Peacekeepers' guns, pushing them towards the door to the Tribute Center.

They get inside the doors, and Duroc just about collapses. "That was an ordeal and a half!" he exclaims.

Bronco chuckles. "Yeah, that's normal. We're on the tenth floor. Come on." He points to the elevator, and the small party makes their way towards it. Once inside, Bronco presses the button labeled with a ten. The small party rides the elevator in silence, and they arrive on the tenth floor within a few seconds.

Bronco takes Duroc by the arm and shoots Bri a glance that obviously says to "stay here". He shows Duroc to his room, then comes back and brings Bri to hers.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big, big day- you'll be dolled up for the chariot rides, and trust me, you won't like it." He bends over and strokes Bri's hair. "Night."

Bri smiles, though she feels a bit awkward that this man is touching her already. That's not normal- of course, she didn't know many older men in Ten in the first place. Maybe it is normal.

After a while, Bri rolls over. She takes Bronco's advice and goes to sleep within a couple minutes of going to bed.

* * *

 **Well, looky here. A chapter! I really hope you guys liked this one. I tried to do some different scenes than just the normal "wakes up, meets mentor, talks about strategy" jazz, so hopefully it's a bit more distinctive and easier to remember each District. Also, did anyone catch the really-obvious reference to the original** **trilogy?**

 **Anyway, I want to say two things. First: If you haven't yet, please go vote on the poll! It's on my profile and tells me who you guys like and dislike.**

 **Second: One of our lovely readers, and the submitter of the lovely Peridot Jones, IVolunteerAsAuthor, has a SYOT up. He's got a couple slots open still and I really recommend submitting. The deadline's in two days, so hurry if you're gonna submit!**

 **Questions!**

 _Favorite District in the chapter?:_

 _Who's your overall favorite tribute, besides your own?:_

 _And finally, are you going to (if you haven't already) vote in the poll?_

 **See you all next chapter, where the Chariot rides take place!**


	18. Chapter 18: Tribute Parade

_Abby Rhineheart (Age 17, District Four Female)_

* * *

I sit on a cold table on the Tribute Center's first floor. It's really freezing in this room and not at all comfortable, though that may just be the difference in climate between the northerly Capitol and the southerly District Four. I'm not used to it, whatever it is.

I'm surrounded by all kinds of strange devices- something that looks like scissors with a really weird blade that I can't describe; clamps that give off heat as I wave my hand over them, pads of silvery powder, small black tubes, and more. I slide off the table and walk to the bucket that's labeled as "Makeup". It's full of even more curious objects.

I pick up a thick black tube and unscrew its lid. It's full of dark liquid and has a skinny brush inside, glued to the lid. I dip the little brush in the liquid.

"Hey! Put that down!"

I whirl around and look straight into the blue face of someone I'm not even sure is human. Their skin and hair are tinted bright cerulean, and their bright eyes are such a bright, electric blue that I know it's artificial. I feel my mouth drop in shock as I lower my arm and place the tube on the counter.

"Abby, right?" the blue person asks. I nod slowly. "Good. I'm Sand, your stylist. I'm going to be making you up all pretty for the audiences! Take a seat on the table, if you will. And close your mouth. You'll attract flies."

I do so, still gaping. Only after Sand begins to circle me and take notes do I remember it's impolite to stare. I look down at my hands, clasped in my lap.

"I think that your hair is absolutely beautiful, dear!" Sand exclaims, fingering the red locks.

I grin. "Thanks. I do have to ask though, are you male or female?"

Sand looks mildly offended for a few seconds, but then realizes it probably is very hard to tell and smiles. "I'm male."

That's awkward. I'm going to have to take my clothes off in front of a thirty-something man . . . Oh well.

He finishes taking notes and asks me politely to take off my robe. I hesitate, but do so. He scampers quickly out of the room, and returns a moment later with three other Capitolites in tow. One- female for sure- has orange hair and a pink dress and skin. It clashes horribly. The next is clearly male, and he's dressed in a bright yellow suit. His hair is orange. Finally, there's another male, clad in a racer's full jumpsuit. He looks the most normal of the three.

The first lady steps forward. "Hi, Abby. You can call me Clash."

I reluctantly wave. I sure hope that Clash isn't in charge of my chariot outfit.

The next one- the one in yellow- takes one step to match Clash. "My name is Flash."

Again, I wave slowly.

Finally, the man in a sleek jumpsuit meets Clash and Flash in the center of the room. "Call me Dash."

"Clash, Dash and Flash. Okay. I'll try to keep you all straight." I reply, eyes widening. This is not going to work out well. At all. Thankfully, they don't seem too fazed by nudity. Maybe it won't be so bad.

Sand calls the three stylists to a huddle. They whisper for a few seconds, then disperse. Flash grabs the curious black tube that I had played with earlier, Sand takes up a bottle of some sort of liquid, and Clash and Dash set to work on ripping the hair off my legs.

That stings at first, but eventually I get used to it and only flinch a small bit each time they pull more of my leg hair off. Once Clash and Dash finish my legs, they motion for me to sit in a tub Sand had pulled out and filled with vile liquid. It burns, too.

Finally, they've gotten me to what they call "Beauty Base One". Flash sits me on the table and hands me my robe. I gratefully put it on, and they get to work on my makeup. That curious tube turns out to go on my newly-curled eyelashes. They also dot on blush and concealer. The final touch is a nice pink shade of lipstick.

"Beautiful," the three sigh in unison.

Sand holds up a tall, cloth-covered package. "It's your chariot dress," he explains. "Wait till you see this. It's so pretty."

I nod, smiling. Sand looks me over for anything the three stylists missed, but finds nothing. He gives each stylist a high five and dismisses them. Then he starts work on my long red hair.

Sand braids my bangs back to the back of my head, then braids more hair back into a half-up half-down style. He curls the bits that are left hanging down.

As I sit, Sand pulls out the dress and uncovers it. I gasp.

It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen.

* * *

 _Caela Flickerman (Master of Ceremonies)_

* * *

"Welcome, Panem, to the largest ceremony of this year's Games- the Tribute Parade! Today features all twenty-four tributes, twelve male, twelve female. Right now, they're being made up for the parade. Now, this is always the event with the biggest, best turnout, and this year is no exception. If you are here in the City Center right now, please keep this in mind- there will be a raffle at the end of the chariot rides. Please stick around until the end if you buy tickets."

"All right, we have the announcement! The chariot rides are about to begin. It looks like this year, the Stylists have a bit of a different approach. They've made up the horses to represent the Districts! This should be a very interesting parade."

"First up, we have the District One Tributes, Peridot and Heron. Their horses are adorned with crowns of solid gold and capes of shimmery fabric, like the tributes themselves. Peridot is dressed in a beautiful silver dress and a long, emerald cape. Her long blonde hair is done in an intricate bun, and on her head rests a silver tiara with diamonds and emeralds. Heron's outfit is similar- he's made up in a silver suit of armor and a blue cape. His tiara has sapphires."

"Coming up next, we can see the tributes from District Two. Katie and Gabriel's horses are gray and spotted, with headlamps and a vest full of stone-working tools. The tributes themselves are made into living statues! You can see that Katie is carrying a small owl- she's supposed to be the ancient Greek goddess Athena. She is covered in plaster and looks just like a goddess. Gabriel, on the other hand, carries a hammer and tongs and is also dresses like a god- the ancient Greek Hephaestus, god of blacksmithing. How fitting."

"Next, we see the tributes from District Three, Nokia and Solder! They are holding hands. Their horses are wrapped in copper wires that sparks are jumping through- similar to the outfits of the tributes themselves. Nokia, bless her heart, has on a long ball gown covered in copper and silver wires. Sparks fly up and around. Her hair is up in a beautiful messy bun. Solder, her partner, is wearing a similar outfit. He has a copper-and-silver suit, which, again, has sparks that fly around it."

"Ah, the classic District Four. Their horses are tinted sea-green and have seashells woven into their manes. The tributes, Aqui and Abby, are just as flattering. Aqui has on a gradient suit that fades like waves, and wears a headdress of seashells. His female counterpart, Abby, looks stunning in a Grecian style gown, colored a light blue and flowing to look like breaking waves. She too has a headdress of seashells. Beautiful, simply gorgeous."

"Up next there is the tributes from the fifth District, Camilla and Solario. They wear similar outfits to the tributes from Three, but their horses are drastically different. Where the Threes' horses were black and blended in with the darkness, the Fives' are stark white and volts of electricity zap back and forth between them. The female tribute, Camilla, is wearing a sleeveless gray robe with yellow sparks coming up and out. Her makeup is smoldering. Solario is wearing the same robe, but his sparks are blue."

"Halfway through, we see the representatives of District Six! Kiara and Jack are dressed in outfits that model those of the train conductors in their Districts, and their horses wear caps like those of sailors. The tributes wear vests and conductor caps, and Kiara's stunning brown hair is pulled into a long ponytail down her back."

"Making our way downtown to District Seven, where Aino and Delancey live! Their horses wear olive wreaths, and are brown. Aino and Delancey are lumberjacks- Aino is in a "cutified" version of Delancey's outfit. They're wearing plaid long-sleeve shirts, work boots, suspendered shorts and caps. Their outfits are complete with scaled-down axes. Aino's hair has been braided back in a style similar to the style of Abby's hair."

"District Eight, the provider of all our cloth goods! The horses representing District Eight are dressed in . . . suits? Well, that's something you don't see every day. The tributes, Taffeta and Sonny, are wearing patchwork suits and snazzy leather shoes. Their multicolored suits are made with multiple fabrics. Taffeta has her hair in a half-up bun."

"Next up is District Nine, arguably the District that provides the most to us here in the Capitol. The horses are a golden color, with crowns of barley and rye. The tributes are dressed in golden clothing: Semolina has a golden ball gown with wheat on the bodice and skirt. Her hair has been left to cascade down her shoulders. Demetrius wears a suit similar to Semolina's with grain dotted on the pants and tie."

"This next District is the one that provides all of our meat and poultry- District Ten, everybody! The horses dragging the chariot have been left clean of any dress-ups. The tribute, Bri and Duroc- are dressed as animals. Bri has a puffy white sheep's costume on, and a light pink bow behind her ear. Duroc is dressed as a wolf, with spiked-up hair and leather vest and boots over a mass of chestnut fur. That's gotta be a hot costume . . . "

"Our second-to-last District carries Tilly and Barric! The horses are russet, and they have Horns of Plenty, full of fruits, on their heads. How fitting. Tilly is dressed as a flower, with green shoes and pants that blossom into a pale pink shirt with flowy petals. Her partner, Barric, is dressed in a farmer's traditional garb- checkered shirt, jeans and suspenders."

"And finally, we have the tributes from Twelve: Ethan and Beulah. These costumes have got to be embarrassing. Their horses are pitch-black and wear headlamps. The female tribute has a large bulky lump of coal around her body, while her male counterpart wears a gigantic silver bucket. They don't look pleased, either."

"Thank you for joining us tonight in the City Center. We hope you have a great night."

* * *

 _Ethan Valentine (Age 14, District Twelve Male)_

* * *

Man, my life sucks. I got the worst costume of the whole pack- I'd say it's worse even than Beulah's. And that's saying something.

I'm a giant frickin' mining bucket. She's huge frickin' lump of coal. And we're both red as frickin' fire trucks in the face. I can barely move in this thing. Everyone else's costumes are decent at worst- the Eights are probably the next worst, and theirs aren't even that bad.

We stand together in a corner, not speaking. Beulah is still really mad at me for what happened on the train. It bugs me, since I guess we have to be in the same room most of the next few weeks, but I guess I deserve it.

A loud voice fills the room, coming from the loudspeaker. "Tributes, to your chariots, please. The parade will begin in three minutes."

We don't speak as we walk to the chariot. The stylists help us inside and we stand awkwardly, since we can't sit down on the seats to wait. From what I can see, the horses pulling each chariot are also dressed up- ours are pure black and have on headlamps, the Elevens have russet ones with tall Horns of Plenty on their heads, and so on.

The voice comes back over the speaker. "The first chariot will be released in ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one."

Sure enough, the chariot carrying Peridot and Heron rolls out. The tributes wave as the voice booms over the city square.

"WELCOME THE TRIBUTES OF THE FORTY-SEVENTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES!"

The crowd goes wild. I can hear them yell and scream, and I'm in the back of the line- probably three hundred feet from the front chariot. "Peridot! Heron! Peridot!" they yell.

Beulah leans over to me. "Hope they're still interested by our turn."

I shake my head. "They won't be."

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Mr. Pessimist."

Twos are next to roll out. I can tell they're rolling out by the cheers, which morph from 'Peridot' and 'Heron' to 'Katie' and 'Gabriel'.

Eventually, the chariot in front of us rolls out and our horses begin to prep. We plaster smiles on our faces, like our stylists told us.

We begin to move after about a minute of awkward standing. Beulah and I wave as we are exposed to the whole Capitol. No one cheers. In fact, there's mostly boos or laughs, directed toward us. We ride slowly down the street of the city center, trying not to fall over as we go over bumps and rocks. Once, Beulah teeters, but she grabs the rail and manages to keep her balance. It's a shame, because to be frank, if she had fallen, I would never have let her live it down.

We screech to a stop at the front lawn of the Presidential Mansion. President Coriolanus Snow walks out of his house onto the large balcony as fireworks go off in the background. The drummers begin to play the national anthem.

 _"O Horn of Plenty,_

 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!_

 _And when you raise the cry,_

 _The brave shall heed the call,_

 _And we shall never falter._

 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!"_

Snow holds up a hand. The crowd quickly quiets.

"One Horn of Plenty indeed. Welcome, tributes. We honor you. We honor your courage, your bravery, and most of all, your sacrifice. We wish you the best, now and in the Arena. May the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

The chariots roll off as the crowd erupts in cheers. The President heads back inside his mansion, smiling his grim, stretched smile.

Eventually, we are let off the chariots. Beulah lifts the large, black synthetic coal over her head, with the help of her stylist. Mine helps pull my coal bucket off.

"You all didn't wave enough. Ethan, you have to smile. You two won't be getting many sponsors, if any, if you keep this up."

We roll our eyes. This is the one thing Beulah and I agree on- the stylists are big-headed, stupid and lame people that won't help us at all.

"Maybe you should consider giving us better costumes. We won't be getting many sponsors, if any, if you keep this up." I reply, not missing a beat. Beulah's expression morphs into one of amusement.

The stylists harrumph and stalk off, leaving us to find our own way back to the Tribute Center.

* * *

 **Well, that was a chapter. It was a long one, too- 2.6k words in Word.**

 **I closed the poll, so you can check out the stats on your tribute(s). That poll will stay up until the one before the Bloodbath, which I'll post after the private sessions if I remember.**

 **I have also drafted a list of placements and death causes, so just be reminded that I can still change it and a tribute with an active submitter is more likely to stick around.**

 **Anyway. Questions:**

 _Favorite Chariot outfit?_

 _Least favorite?_

 _What writing program do you use? I use Docs and Word._

 **See you all later!**


	19. Chapter 19: Training Day 1

_Gabriel Alderyne (District Two Male, age 18)_

* * *

I wake with a start. It's the first training day, and I am not ready.

I yawn and look around the room. My eyes land on the clock in the corner- it's 7:30. I slept in. Thankfully, the tributes aren't required to be to the training floor until 8:15. I should be okay.

I feel rested for the first time since I arrived in the Capitol, and I'm extremely grateful for that as I stand. Clothes have been set out for me; a gray-and-black shirt that looks very sweat-resistant and a pair of black slacks. I pick them up and go to shower.

The Capitol showers, I've noticed, are very different from those in Two. Ours are simple- a hot and cold option, nothing else. We have to manually squeeze out our shampoo and soap. Here in the Capitol, they have an option for just about everything you can think of. I strip off my nightclothes and step into the shower, then turn on a burning hot stream of water, just the way I like it. I stand in the spray for about fifteen minutes, washing my hair and body, before I turn off the water and dry off.

I slip on the training clothes, and am pleasantly surprised to find that they are specially made to fit me. I stare into the mirror and contemplate my options for the day, but eventually there's a knock at the bathroom door.

I open the door and see my Escort, Laurita. She bustles into the room, past me.

"Good morning, Gabriel. Are you almost ready for breakfast? The Avoxes made us a special meal of biscuits, gravy, eggs, and muffins. Up and at 'em! Let's go."

I roll my eyes, but Laurita doesn't seem to notice. Instead, she keeps bustling around the small bathroom, fixing towels and checking the status of my toilet paper. Once she is satisfied, she grabs my hand and pulls me into the hall.

"Hey!" I protest. Laurita doesn't seem to care and keeps pulling me along. Eventually, I just yank my arm from her grip.

Katie and the mentors are already sitting at the table, and from the looks of it, they've been there a while. I shrug and fill my plate with gravy, eggs, a biscuit and a chocolate muffin.

"Gabriel! Hasn't anyone ever told you it's impolite to take more than you can eat? That's wasteful!" Athena, my female mentor, breaks in as I reach for a second muffin. I retract my hand.

"I can eat all this." I say in a small voice.

Katie scoffs, but what does she know? She's only fifteen, so she hasn't got as big of a stomach as me. I shrug again, then take my plate to my spot. I pour a glass of orange juice and down half of it.

We eat in silence, and I actually do finish it all. Athena turns up her nose at that. We all stand after everyone's done, and Laurita tells us to go to training.

We are escorted by the Peacekeepers who stood by the door while we ate. Katie attempts to make conversation with one of them, but he turns up his nose and walks faster. After that, she's quiet.

The Training Center is a spacious gym, full of all the weapons I know so well: spears, bows and arrows, swords, and even maces. My eyes land on the throwing knives. They're my best weapon- they aren't great for killing blows, but they are good to slow someone down until I can get to them with a sword. Katie and I are directed to the center of the room, where all the other tributes that have shown up so far are standing. We follow suit.

It doesn't take too long before the rest of the tributes arrive. They join us in the center of the room, some making small talk with their partners. At exactly 8:15, an elderly woman dressed in a black pantsuit comes out of a door in the corner. She looks us over for a second or two, then launches into a speech.

"Hello, tributes. I am Amalia and I am your advisor for these next three days. I hope you're enjoying your stay here in the Capitol so far." She looks around the group, eyeing each tribute. "Today will be the first of three days you will get to train with any and all the equipment you will find in the Arena. There will be knives, swords, maces, spears, sai, and anything else you can think of available to you. Keep in mind, though, that in previous years, over half of our tributes have been killed by natural causes. Dehydration. Starvation. Food poisoning. Mutts. Drowning. And that's not the half of it. Everyone wants to grab a sword, but I will warn you: do not abandon the survival skills. There is only one rule here in the Training Center: do not fight with the other tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the Arena." A few of the tributes chuckle. "All right. Once I say go, you'll be set loose to train. Remember our little talk here. Three. Two. One. GO."

Amalia retreats as the tributes disperse. I go to the knife-throwing station.

This is going to be more fun than I thought.

* * *

 _Beulah Sairel (District Twelve Female, age 17)_

* * *

Amalia releases us and I immediately look around for a station to go to. Weapons are going to be crucial later on, but I figure I should start with something relatively simple- survival skills. I decide to head to the traps. After all, I've heard of Victors who used nothing but traps to win their Games – and they're a pretty decent food source.

The trainer stationed at the traps table looks mildly surprised to see me come towards her. Apparently, she doesn't get many visitors.

"Hello."

"Hi, I'm Beulah. What can you show me?"

The trainer smiles. "Welcome, Beulah. I can show you how to make different kinds of traps and snares, for a variety of animal sizes from the smallest, like rabbits, to the largest, like tributes and bears."

I nod. This sounds doable. "Okay. Let's start with the simple ones."

The trainer peers at me over her glasses, which frame her dark eyes. "Are you sure? Those are more geared towards the younger tributes."

"Really. Okay. Well, what would you suggest, then?"

"I can show you how to make this snare," she says, pointing to a small setup that looks to be about the right size to catch a rabbit.

I nod slowly. "Okay."

The trainer grins. "Good. All right. First things first, you're going to need wire. If you will be using snares and traps as your weapon, that will be one of your most vital assets. Try to get wire. If you can't get wire, string is your next best bet. Use dental floss, shoelaces or fishing wire. And if you don't have any of that- not sure how you wouldn't- use cattails or stringy tree bark."

My eyes widen. This is already getting to be almost too much… The trainer, however, doesn't seem to notice. She launches into the next step. I pick up a wire.

"All right, good. Now after you have your wire, you'll need a suitable place to set your snare. Look for animal droppings. Water is also a good bet. Find a nearby sapling, or a boulder and a bendy tree branch. Once you've found your spot, you can start to make your snare. You'll want to find a couple small sticks." She hands me a pair of twigs and a pocketknife.

"We're going to make a base and hook. The base should be a bit longer than the hook. Now carve a small notch in the first stick here… good… yes, like that. And the other… yep. Good."

I smile. This isn't actually that bad- though how the heck am I supposed to get all this stuff I need?

"And now, you'll plant the base into the ground near the sapling. Good. Right there. Here's the fun part. Tie the cord to the top of the sapling, about six inches down."

I tie a strong double-knot at the top, like the trainer shows me. Then, she tells me to tie a similar knot to the second notched stick. I do so.

"Very nice. Next, we'll fasten the hook and base. Pull the hook, then nestle it in the notch of the base. Yes!"

The snare is beginning to take shape- and I think it's actually going to work. The poor sapling is bent at a 90-degree angle, but it hasn't snapped. The base is the only thing keeping the hook from flying away.

"The last few steps are easy. Tie a noose to the end of the hook-" the trainer hands me a string and I fashion a small noose- "and then spread it out."

I do so. The trainer begins to clap. "Very good, Beulah! That's how you do a trap."

I smile. "Thank you. You've been helpful."

She smiles at me and begins to deconstruct the snare as I walk off to find a weapon to practice with. Spears look too long, and I have terrible aim, so bows and throwing axes are out. Swords and maces look too heavy. That leaves few options. Thankfully, knives are one of them. Knives are relatively simple- or so it seems. Also, they aren't nearly as heavy as other weapons and don't require much skill. That's my kind of thing.

Dummies are lined up nearby and a trainer stands at attention. I pick up a shiny blade and turn it over in my hand. It's a serrated knife, with a nice steel blade and a handle made of some kind of black plastic. It will do.

I begin to stab at the dummy, and do so for a few minutes until I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around. There stands the trainer from earlier.

"I can show you how, you know," he says.

I nod. "Thanks."

* * *

 _Solario Thunders (District Five Male, Age 12)_

* * *

Camilla's been a great ally. In fact, she's more than that. Over the last few days, she's become one of my best friends. We stick together.

She has been dragging me around the training room, trying to decide where to go, for the last ten minutes. We attempted to train with spears (Camilla was really uncoordinated with those!), swords (I couldn't even really lift those), and bows and arrows (I couldn't draw back the strings most times, and Camilla only hit the target twice).

"Camilla, how about knives?" I beg. I've been trying to get her to go to the knife station for the last five minutes, but she refuses.

"I've told you three times, Sol. Not knives. Everyone uses knives! There won't be any left at the Cornucopia if we try to get them, too…"

"Ugh. Well, we should show the Gamemakers they have to give us knives, then!" I say.

Camilla peers at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

I smile. "If they can get a good show, they'll do anything. If we can show them we'll give a good show with our knives, they'll make sure we get them!"

She stops walking for a moment. "Wait, that's actually a really good idea. You're a genius, Solario! Come on, then, let's check them out."

I grin. "Hooray!"

We go to the station with all the knives. It's crowded- the girls from Three and Twelve and the boy from Three are all there already, and it looks like the girl from Nine is coming over.

They all look at us as we enter the area. I put my head down and look over the knives on the table. Camilla does the same, picking up the knives to find one that looks and feels lightweight and easy to use. She eventually settles on a thin-bladed dagger with a nice black handle. I can't decide what to use, though- most of the knives are way too long and hard to handle.

"Sol! Over here," Camilla whispers. I trot to the other side of the table, where Camilla is. She holds up a knife, about seven inches long, with a dull, unsharpened blade that takes up just under half of the whole thing and a round handle. At the end of the handle sits a ring, probably for attaching the knife to things using rope.

I nod appreciatively. "This actually looks perfect for me."

Camilla nods, then whirls around suddenly. I look over my shoulder. There stands the girl from Nine, Sammy or Lina or something.

"Hey. I'm Semolina. I want to ally."

Camilla and I turn to each other, and we must have looked really taken aback, because Semolina covers her mouth.

"Oh, sorry. Can I try again? I'm Semolina. District Nine. Who are you?"

"Camilla. District Five. This is Solario."

She smiles, warmly. "Good to know. So. About that allying issue…"

Camilla looks skeptical, but smiles back. "Can we have a few minutes to discuss? We hadn't thought about adding anyone else in."

"Yeah, of course." Semolina says. She turns back to her knife politely, letting Camilla turn to me.

"What do you think?"

"I think she needs to prove herself. Not that we're great, but she doesn't seem all that special. If she can defeat a beginner or medium level trainer, I say yes."

Camilla nods. "Reasonable." She taps Semolina on the shoulder, and the girl from Nine whirls around. "We've decided you have to earn your way in. We're going to watch you fight a beginner or medium-level trainer, with your weapon of choice. If you can defeat them, you're in."

Semolina smiles. "Okay. I like scythes."

She leads us wordlessly to the station which houses sickles and scythes. The trainer seems to know what's going on, since he automatically grabs a scythe off the wall and walks to the training mat. He tosses Semolina a set of training gear and puts one on himself.

The two get into stance. I give the signal.

"Begin."

They circle around each other. Semolina makes the first move, toward the chest. The trainer takes the blow, but it misses the chest and instead hits his arm. She forms her mouth into a tight line as the trainer hits her left leg.

Semolina slices the air, as if beckoning him forward. Her scythe glitters- and then it's wedged in the rubber of the training gear.

"Good fight," the trainer calls as the two pull off their gear. Semolina returns her scythe to the rack.

"So?"

I smile. "Welcome to the alliance."

* * *

 **Sorry this chapter took a little longer than the last couple.**

 **These tributes were really fun to write. I like all your guys' tributes, though, so that's not a surprise... I don't think I have anything else to say.**

 _Favorite POV?_

 _Can you guess what kind of knife Solario was using?_

 _What is or was your favorite subject in school?_

 **See you later!**


	20. Chapter 20: Training Day 2

_Kathryn "Katie" Willburn (District Two Female, age 15)_

* * *

 _Shhhh…. thunk._

 _Shhhh…. thunk._

 _Shhhh…. thunk._

The quarrels shoot from the crossbow and hurtle toward the targets. Sweat runs down my back and forehead, and the smell of twenty-four sweaty bodies in close quarters fills my nose. I inhale and shoot again.

 _Shhhh…. thunk._

Bull's eye.

"Katie!" a voice calls from the other end of the room. "Come here."

I spin on my heel, looking for the source of the voice. It's the boy from One, Heron Filigree. He's holding a set of throwing knives in one hand and a dagger in the other. His District partner, Peridot, stands right next to him, hip cocked out and hand on her side. She has a smug expression. Behind them is the boy from Four- Aqui- who holds some sort of knife that has prongs.

I drop the crossbow and quarrels on the table and jog to the other side of the room, where they all stand near the camouflage station. "What's up?"

"We have a problem." Peridot pipes up.

"And?"

"Well, our problem is that your partner is not joining the Careers."

All four pairs of eyes search the room and land on the tall male from District Two, who is currently sparring with a trainer.

"Yeah, he said he doesn't feel right doing it." I say, turning back to my allies. "So what's the big deal? We'll kill him early on."

Aqui rolls his eyes. "Exactly. That's the problem! He's an asset and a threat. He's an asset because he can take out our enemies- but he's a threat because he's trained. If he's not going to ally, then we have to take him out right after the Bloodbath or risk invasion once we're weak halfway through the Games."

Heron nods. "Well said, Aqui. As the unspoken leader of the Careers-"

"Wait! Who died and made you king?!" breaks in Peridot. She thrusts out her hip again. "I was going to suggest a leadership plan today, to give us all a chance…"

"Let him be, Peri," I say. "We'll figure that out later. For now, let him have his moment of fame." Peridot pouts, but doesn't fight it.

"Anyway…" Heron says, rolling his eyes. "As I was saying, we're going to have to take him out as soon as possible. In the bloodbath is preferable, however, I doubt that'll happen. He's smart enough to stay away from us, at least, he better be. We'll have to track him down soon afterward."

I plop onto the chair standing by the closest table. My head falls into my hands, and I begin to think. _We could take Gabriel out in the bloodbath if he goes in, but if he doesn't we have a problem. He's definitely smart, like Heron said. He'll stay away from us if he knows what's good for him. What about traps? We could get that one girl from Four, Abby, to join. She's probably great with water traps._

"What about the girl from Four? Abby, right?" Aqui nods. "We could recruit her- I'm sure she'd pretty good with traps."

Peridot shakes her head. "No! She's Reaped! She won't be of any use to us, so why bother taking her in?"

Aqui, however, looks in favor of my idea. He smiles. "She's good with a spear- not sure where she got the skills, but she's pretty decent. And she is good with traps, but only aquatic ones. I've seen her around the District."

"All right, then. It's settled." Heron looks a bit skeptical, but nods. "We'll need a plan for her, though. Let's say this: If she doesn't capture Gabriel within a week, we kill her off and find him ourselves. That way, she is constantly under pressure and won't betray us."

Peridot still doesn't look happy, but crosses her arms over her chest and nods. "Fine. Can I kill her if she doesn't, though?"

I smile. "Yeah, whatever. I'll go find her."

And I do. I jog off to where Abby is training- spears, naturally. Her long, curly red hair flies behind her body as she trains.

"Abalone?" I call when Abby lowers her spear. She is decent- not great with any one type of spear that I've seen, but decent with all.

Abby turns and looks at me. "What?"

I raise my hands to show tranquility. "I'm not here to hurt you. I can't, remember? Anyway. I'm here to make you an offer. How would you like protection through the Games? We Careers are down one in or ranks. We need your help to take out the threats. In return, we'll protect you and provide food, water, and weapons."

She cocks her head to the side. "What's the catch?"

"You have to trap Gabriel over there within a week. You're proficient with traps, no?"

"Proficient enough."

"Okay, here's our deal. We let you join, and you catch Gabriel within a week or face death."

Abby mulls this over, but eventually smiles. "Deal."

We shake hands and she returns to her training. I rush over to my allies and they look at me questioningly.

"She's in."

* * *

 _Demetrius Osborne (District Nine Male, age 15)_

* * *

I need an ally. Like, soon. Everyone's already finding friends, except me. There's the pair from Five with Semolina, and the boys from Ten and Eleven, and the pair from Three, and that's not even including the Careers.

Currently, I'm working with scythes. I hope my skill will attract someone, but it really isn't looking good. It seems like I'm going to have to go find an ally on my own. I work with the scythe for about another five minutes before giving up.

I put the bladed weapon down on the table and run a hand through my hair. I adjust my shirt- a gray-and-black tunic that is identical in design to the other tributes'. It's actually made custom for me, though, which is nice.

I take a deep breath. In, hold, out, hold. It's stressful finding an ally, especially for an introvert like myself. Hopefully I won't get rejected like I have before in my District _. Izadora, I'm looking at you._

I look around the room, setting my gaze on all the unallied tributes.

There's the pair from Six- the girl looks a bit young and weak to be a capable ally, but the boy could be an option. The pair from Seven is the same: capable boy, girl who doesn't stand too much of a chance. The pair from Eight are too young and gentle, though the boy's a spitfire. Ten's girl, again, is a bit young, but the boy is already in an alliance with the Eleven boy. Eleven's girl has something wrong with her- I feel bad, but not bad enough to ask her to ally. Twelve's girl is one of my best bets- she is alone, strong-looking, and from what I can tell, quite charming. Her partner is scared and wanders around, not doing much. Foolish boy.

So my options are Seven Boy, Six Boy and Twelve Girl. I decide to ask Six Boy first. I try to remember his name- Aflac? Jim? Nothing comes up, though, and I shrug. Hopefully he'll tell me. I take another deep breath and walk to where he stands, hunched over, silently identifying plants.

"Excuse me?" I say quietly.

The boy turns his head toward me. "Hi."

"Hi. I'm Demetrius. Who are you?"

"Jack. What's up?" Ah. That's his name. Good to know.

"I was wondering if you have allies already, and if not, if you wanted some." I close my eyes, expecting the worst- rejection.

"Oh! Allies. I'm allied with Delancey over there." He points to Seven Boy. My mouth forms a thin line. Seven Boy was my next choice, but I guess that won't work. "Were you interested in joining?"

I force myself to smile. "Sorry. I'm kind of looking for a duo, not a trio. Thanks for the offer, though." Dang it. That was awkward.

"Sure. Okay, well, if you change your mind, we're always open!" Jack smiles at me and turns back to his plants.

I guess I have to ask Twelve Girl now. I take yet another deep breath as I walk away from Jack.

Where is Twelve Girl, anyway? She isn't at any of the survival stations, and the only weapon station I can see a dark-haired tall girl at is knives. I head over there.

There's a mass of tributes at the station- the Threes are here, and so are two girls. They're all deeply absorbed in their work, and it takes a great deal of my courage to break them away from their training.

"Excuse me, is the girl from Twelve here?" I ask the trainer. That seemed easier than asking each of the girls where they come from.

He shrugs. "Hey, which one of you girls is from Twelve?"

The taller of the two straightens up. Her shoulder-length dark hair frames her olive-toned face, and I smile gently.

"I am, why?"

I break in. "What's your name?"

She looks uneasily around. "Beulah…"

"Okay. Hi, Beulah. I'm Demetrius. I was wondering if I could pull you aside to have a chat."

Beulah's eyebrows raise. "About… what?"

"Allying."

She drops her knife on the table. "Fine. Where?"

I motion to one of the many benches set up near water fountains. "Sit."

We sit. I turn to face Beulah, and she does the same to face me. "What's all this about allying?" she asks.

"Have you got any allies yet?"

She shakes her head, but doesn't speak.

"Do you want any?"

Again, no words, but a nod this time.

"Would you like to ally with me?"

Beulah's mouth forms a thin line. "Well… what can you do?"

"I have a pretty decent knowledge of plants, and I'm good with scythes."

"More than me… I have okay knife skills, and my plant knowledge has increased incredibly over the last couple days. I'm okay with an alliance."

Yes! Yesyesyesyes. I try not to let my giddiness show, and I nod. "Cool. Allies?"

She smiles. "Allies."

* * *

 _Nokia Skypewalker (District Three Female, age 13)_

* * *

I'm really not sure how I would have done any of this- being Reaped, the train rides, the Capitol- without Solder's help. Even though he and I weren't even aware of the other's existence three weeks ago, we're basically best friends now.

He and I are allied, naturally. We've even taken to calling ourselves the "Study Buddies". That was Solder's idea.

Right now, we are stuck in the training gym with all the other tributes. A boy with dark curly hair and a broken nose just walked over to the station we are working at, pulling away the girl who was working beside me. I don't like that. Even though we didn't speak, she kept looking over at Solder and I, looking like she was going to ask us to ally.

And another ally might be nice. Even though Solder's fairly proficient with traps and wiring, and I've actually found that I'm decent using double daggers, we aren't enough. We certainly wouldn't be able to take even one Career out, based on what I've seen from the ones in this room. We'd need at least one other person and a significant amount of luck.

"Nokia, how's it coming?" Solder whispers to me. I look up at him. He's got a small serrated knife in his hand, and he wields it with the confidence of an expert even though he's not.

I hold up the small daggers I've been working with. "Okay."

"Good, good. I think we'd be best off moving to a different station. We've been here all day, and tomorrow, we have to do the mandatory exercises. We'd benefit from some survival skills, you know?"

I nod. "Which one?"  
Solder taps his knee. "I was thinking about visiting the traps, but I'm already quite proficient with those. Same for the wires and electricity. I'd say we'd get the most use out of plant identification."

Again, I nod. "Okay." I place the daggers back on the table, and Solder mirrors my actions with his knife. He nods respectfully at the trainer, who nods back and goes back to showing the boy from Eight the difference between a knife and a dagger.

We walk slowly across the room, and I observe the others after Solder bends his head close to mine and whispers to me. "Look at the others, observe their fighting style."

The girl from Six, Kiara, stands off to the side of the room and drinks from a plastic water bottle. An Avox stands by. I smile at her, but inwardly shudder. I'm very against Avoxing. It's cruel and terrible. I've been leaving little gifts for my Avox, trying to make her feel better. I don't know whether she's been taking them, but they've been disappearing, so I think she has.

We walk past the Careers, who have a superior air about them. One of them, a girl with pretty blonde hair, glares daggers at us as we pass. The others all giggle at something the boy from Four says.

"Ignore him," I whisper to myself. Solder nods.

We get to the station and the trainer there looks up from her device.

"Welcome," she says. "Name and District?"

"Nokia and Solder, from Three." Solder says. I nod.

The trainer lifts her empty palms to us. "Okay. So first things first, I'll show you a few berries. I'll ask you to tell me the name from a list of descriptions. Here it is." She hands us a sheet of paper, on which is a chart. The chart includes ten berry descriptions, five in a "FATAL" column and five in an "EDIBLE" one. Each description corresponds to a name.

The trainer gives us a moment to look over the sheet, then holds out a berry and dumps it onto the paper towel that sits on the table. "What does this one look like to you?"

I turn the berry over with a finger. It's dark, a dark purpley-blue, and small, but round. Its stem is green and smooth. The berry has a dull shine to it.

I look to the paper, nudge Solder, and point to the column that is labeled "nightshade". It reads, "Nightshade is a highly poisonous berry. It is a dark, dull purple when ripened, and its stem is green." Solder nods to confirm my answer.

"Nightshade," I say with as much confidence as I can find.

The trainer beams. "Correct! Nightshade berries are green when young and a dull purple when ripe. They're highly toxic, so do NOT ingest them."

I smile, proud of myself for getting it right.

The next berry is a bright red one, a bit smaller than the nightshade and still attached to its dark green, spiny leaf. It matches the description of "holly" on the page. After holly, the trainer shows us the edible blueberry, then places a berry that is almost exactly the same as the blueberry on the paper towel.

"This one's not on your paper. It's the deadly nightlock berry. If you ingest it, you'll be dead before it even reaches your stomach."

I shudder.

"Keep an eye out for it in the Arena. It's got a similar appearance to blueberries but it's highly toxic."

Just then, the head trainer blows her whistle, marking the end of training. We thank the trainer who'd been showing us berries, then head to our rooms.

* * *

 **Hello! Sorry this took so long- I've been busy. That's also why reviews are really late. I'll try to get those done ASAP…**

 **Last chapter, Solario used a kunai knife. Nobody got that, but that's okay. I'll have more questions like that soon enough…**

 **Anyway! Regular questions:**

 _Favorite POV?  
Who's your favorite Career?_

 _And your favorite non-Career?_

 **See you next time!**


	21. Chapter 21: Training Day 3

_Tilly Husk (District Eleven Female, age 16)_

* * *

It's early in the morning when someone comes into my bedroom. I hadn't been asleep, of course, but just thinking, laying on the bed.

"Tilly dear, time to get up," she says. Her voice wafts over me. It's my escort, Flora.

"I wasn't sleeping," I say. "But why are you getting me up so early? It doesn't seem like it's past five."

"It's five fifteen," Flora says. I can tell that she's smiling. "We have a surprise for you."

I swing my legs over the soft bed and grab my wrinkled cane. "Okay."

We walk slowly down the hall to the dining room, where Avoxes bring us strawberry tarts, creamy hot chocolate, and something round and fried, then covered with glaze and sprinkles. Flora calls it a donut.

Eventually, after we finish, a Peacekeeper's iron grip clasps on my shoulder. "It's time to go," his gruff voice says.

I still don't know where we're going, but I have learned lately not to argue with Peacekeepers. The hand remains on my shoulder as he guides me down halls, right, left, left. I try to memorize the turns and the number of steps in between, in case I'm going to need to escape.

After around twenty turns with around forty steps in between, we stop. The Peacekeeper opens a door, then guides me inside. It's annoying that he thinks I have to be helped everywhere- I have a cane, after all.

"Welcome, Tilly." says a voice I don't recognize. It's a deep voice, so it has to be a man speaking, and he sounds matter-of-fact and yet friendly. "My name is Dr. Francius. We have a special surprise for you. Today we are going to do a procedure on your eyes. It will take less than fifteen minutes under the knife, and you will need to wear eye patches for a mere hour afterward. We're going to give you eyesight."

The world goes quiet and a buzzing enters my ears. I'm faintly aware that Flora claps, along with someone else who I presume must be Seeder, though I can't be sure.

"You're going to what?" I manage to get out after a minute.

"Fix your eyes," Flora says in a high voice. "Isn't that great?"

"Why? Why do you want to help me? I have no chance in the Games. I'm grateful, of course, but confused."

Seeder's the next to speak. "We, for one, want to make sure your chance is equal to all the others'. For another, you have sponsors who have paid for this. You're well-liked, Tilly. You have supporters."

My face breaks into a smile. "Well, let's get started!"

"The first thing we have to do is put you to sleep. Then we can start the procedure. By the time you wake, your eyes will be nearly healed. You'll wear patches for an hour, then you'll take them off and, well, see," Dr. Francius says. "Why don't you lay down here?"

He gently guides me to a cold bench that I lay down on. The situation has started to sink in and my heart beats fast.

"Okay, Tilly. We're going to place this over your mouth and begin. Are you ready?"

I nod.

"Okay."

Something wet and cold goes over my face. I breathe in, out, and then everything goes quiet.

* * *

…

* * *

I snap my eyes open, yet still it is dark. I reach up to my face. There's something on it… but I can see slight discoloration from the normal pitch black.

"Tilly, you're awake!" Seeder's voice says.

I nod. "Seeder, is this redness normal?"

"Sorry?"

"It's not black, Seeder. It's dark red. Is that normal?"

She breathes in. "Yes. Yes, that is normal. In fact, that means it worked. Oh, Tilly, I'm so excited! You only have to wait three more minutes."

I grin. Anticipation floods me. I'll be able to see, finally. A knock sounds at the door, and footsteps come inside.

"Tilly, do you see red?" It's Dr. Francius.

I nod.

"Okay. We're going to take off your patch. Close your eyes, if you would. We'll tell you when to open them."

I obey. The blackness returns, but only for a minute. Hands pull off my blindfold and the redness comes back.

"Three… two… one… open."

I open my eyes, and am instantly overwhelmed by the colors. Colors! Vibrant reds and cheery yellows and deep blues and rich purples. I begin to laugh. I cover my eyes. This can't be real. When I open them again, the colors are still there. It is real.

There are three people standing in front of me and smiling. One is a short young lady with curly yellow hair in a bob. The tips of her hair are a light red- pink? She wears a striped red and yellow blouse.

The next is a tall man, with a green beard and black suit. He has blue gloves on his hands. This must be Dr. Francius.  
The final one is tall, with short, slicked-back hair and a darker tone of skin than either of the others.

The colors are still there. I'm not crazy. My eyes begin to water.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

* * *

 _Peridot Jones (District One Female, age 17)_

* * *

The other Careers are all working on weapons, which I think is stupid. I'm over at the plants table, making poisons. That's my best bet to win the Games- poison everyone.

Yes, of course I'm trained with weapons. I'm decent with long range and good with swords and daggers, but to be honest, that all gets a little repetitive. Poisons are much more fun and there's infinite possibilities. They're very underrated.

The boys from Twelve and Eight are here, too. They're whispering with their heads together over a couple stacks of berries, trying to figure out which is which. I'm pretty sure they are allied. Every once in awhile, the boy from Eight glances over at my potion and rolls his eyes. Like I said, poisons are very underrated.

All the berries have finally gotten to the right consistency. I pour a bit of water into a bowl, pick up the nightshade with tweezers and squeeze some juice into the bowl with one gloved hand. Next is holly, and then just a bit of nightlock. Finally, I put a bit of red food coloring in the mixture so it looks like a very thin fruit punch, watered-down or something. I put it into a test tube and cork it. I'm not exactly sure what holly, nightshade and nightlock put together will do, but it'll be bad.

"Peridot!" I hear.

My ponytail flies as I turn and see Abby standing in front of me. My hair barely misses her face, and I stifle a giggle. I really don't like Abby, and am looking forward to her death.

"What?" I say, glaring at the girl.

"We need you over at the javelin station."

I roll my eyes as I turn and stalk off toward the station. What a bitch! Who does she think she is, trying to interrupt my training?

 _Calm down,_ I think to myself. _You can't throw a temper tantrum in front of your allies…_

All the Careers are perched on various chairs and benches by the javelins, except for Aqui who is throwing a few at the targets, using them like spears.  
"Well?" I say, looking around at my allies. "What's up?"

Heron crosses his arms over his chest. "We need a leader."  
Pffft. "Not me," I say.

Katie raises her eyebrows. "Why not? It sure seemed like you wanted to lead yesterday."

"Well, I didn't. Chill."

Aqui appears by my side, with a javelin in hand. He places it on the table. "So how are we going to decide on a leader?"  
"Highest training score?" Abby says.

Heron tips his head sideways, thinking. "I like that. Anyone else have ideas?"

Everyone shrugs.

"Good. We're in agreement. The member with the highest training score will become leader."  
I raise my hand. "And what about ties?"

"Then we'll vote," Katie says. "No better way."

Everyone nods. I wave my hand dismissively. "Well, is that all? If so, I really need to get back to training."

Katie looks to her feet. "Sure." Everyone agrees, and we disperse. I go back to the plant station, where I find that someone has tampered with my poison- the test tube has shifted to the right in its container. I pick it up, trying to figure out what happened to it, but there's no clues. I uncork the tube and waft the smell toward me. The potion smells the same- deadly sweet- and it looks the same. Carefully, I carry the tube to the sink. I dump the poison out.

"Nice concoction there," says the boy from Eight as I pass. I whip around.

"What did you say?"

He shrugs. "I said, nice concoction!"

I poke a finger at him. "You better not have touched it. It was shifted a bit to the right, and I noticed it. If you touch my stuff, I'll…" I struggle to think of a threat. "I'll kill you first, kid. Don't mess with Peridot Jones."

The boy laughs. "You don't scare me."

"Oh really?" I ask. I stalk to the knife table and grab a throwing knife. I chuck it at the nearest target, and it lands right in the center bulls-eye. Luck, but I won't tell the boy that.

"That'll be you if you mess with me." I snarl.

He rolls his eyes, and I snap.

"You know what, kid? You're first to die, right after the bloodbath. I'm gonna torture you and you'll be afraid of me then."

Then I turn on my heel and jog away to the station where all the daggers are. Time to get practice. That kid won't even know what hit him.

* * *

 _Jack McArthy (District Six Male, age 17)_

* * *

I feel really bad for not asking any of the younger kids to ally. I feel like they are my responsibility, almost. I know that is the worst possible way to feel towards a bunch of kids who are going to be trying to kill you in a week, but it's the truth.

They all already have allies, anyway. The little girl from Three with her partner; the two spitfires I had my eye on together- Ethan and Sonny; even the little twelve-year-old from Five found allies in Camilla and Semolina. What's the point in asking, if no one is open?

Delancey is a great ally, though. He and I are getting along really well. I feel like we just have great chemistry. We've been hard at work lately, Delancey trying to teach me axe skills, hatchet skills, even throwing axes (which he was bad at too). None of them were my kind of thing, but I really don't want to have to ask some Capitolite who's going to be cheering on my death in a few days to help me find ways to murder other kids.

"Jack!" Delancey's voice calls. "Come over here."

I jog awkwardly from where I was at the knife table to where Delancey is, at the swords station. He wields a thin metal sword, and as I approach, he pulls another off the rack and hands it to me.

"What?"

"Try this, okay?" Delancey asks. "I don't know anything about swords- my knowledge is limited to axes and hatchets- but maybe it'll work better."

I accept the sword. Maybe he's right! I have worked with blades in the factories back home when I was assigned to the section that made ice-cutting vehicles. This can't be that different, right?

Wrong. An hour later, I'm dripping with sweat, my muscles are burning, and there's a pile of dismembered dummies in front of me. Delancey left ten minutes earlier to work on his axes, but it's clear he doesn't have much hope for me either.

I wipe my brow. This had better get easier. Private sessions are this afternoon and I still have no idea what I'm going to show. And I need a half-decent score if I want to get any sponsors. With these skills (if they can be called that), even that will be difficult.

However, I'm not the kind of guy to quit. I never quit. I didn't quit when Alyssa got pregnant at 18, I didn't quit when I found out I was going to be a father to a little girl, I didn't quit when I got Reaped, and I'm not about to quit now.

I make the decision. I will call the trainer over and get help. It'll be beneficial for me, and it'll be beneficial for Delancey. And maybe, just maybe, I'll make it back home to Alyssa and my unborn daughter Molly.

I pick up the sword from the table and raise my hand. "Excuse me, could I get a sword trainer over here?"

A young man sitting on a bench near the wall stands. He walks over to me. "What can I help you with, Six?"  
"My name's Jack, thanks. I'd like to get to know some sparring techniques with this here sword."

"Okay. 'This here sword' is a rapier. We'll start with some single-person technique exercises. Hold out your hand, if you would."

I hold out my hand to the trainer, and he places the sword in it. I curl my fingers around the hilt, inside the handguards.

"Wave it around," the trainer tells me. I do. It feels strange, different from when I was holding it and training on my own. I notice that's because I was holding the sword differently alone. The nice thing is that it feels almost natural, like this sword was made for me.

"Good?" I raise an eyebrow and look over to the trainer.

He smiles and nods. "Okay. Come over here, to the targets. We'll start with thrusts."

I comply, following the man hesitantly to the targets. The Careers are nearby, and as I pass, they look up at me and snicker. I roll my eyes.

The trainer grasps my arm in his hand. "I'm going to thrust your arm at the target. I need you to trust me. I won't hurt you and this will be relatively simple if you follow directions."

I nod.

"Okay. You ready? Three, two, one." The trainer pushes my arm out, lodging the sword into the target. I grimace. My fingers drag over the handguard, which cuts into the flesh of my pointer.

He doesn't seem to notice, though. The sword comes out of the target smoothly, like a knife coming out of butter.

"Nice," he says. "Thanks for trusting me. Is your hand okay?"

"No," I say casually, almost laughing. "I'm bleeding."

The corner of his mouth flips up. "That always happens. Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

 **GUYS! I did it! I got a chapter out!**

 **Training is always really fun to write in my opinion, much better than Reapings at least. I wrote Jack's whole POV in one sitting, which tbh is a huge accomplishment for me XD**

 **Anyway, Nano's being a Jerk™ and I decided to sit down and write HTWB so here's a chapter. Don't get your hopes up for Private Sessions before the end of the month, though.**

 **I don't feel like I did well with Tilly getting her eyes fixed. Just so you know, the treatment they used on her does actually exist. I just feel like I didn't give enough emotion, y'know? However, Tilly already has almost 100 words more than Jack and about 150 more than Peridot in this chapter, so I left it as is. Sorry. :(**

 **Anyway! Questions :)**

 _Are you doing NaNo? If so, are you willing to tell me the name of your novel?_

 _Apple or Samsung?_

 _Finally, what's your favorite TV show?_

 **See you all later!**


	22. Chapter 22: Private Sessions

_Aqui Schmidt (District Four Male, age 17)_

* * *

I'm really bored. I've been sitting in the same chair for close to 40 minutes now, and it's getting just a bit old.

Abby, sitting next to me, fidgets with her hands, and the boy from Five nudges his partner and whispers to her. All the tributes from Districts One, Two and Three already went into the training room, so now I'm just waiting for my name to be called. _Boys, then girls, in District order_ , the head trainer had told us. The girl from Twelve, Beulah, I think, had groaned. I had almost felt bad for her, but then I had remembered that I'm going to be trying to kill her in two days.

All of us tributes from Districts Four through Seven are lined up on hard black chairs, in the same order that we'll be entering the training gym to show off our skills.

A tinny voice comes through the loudspeaker. "Aqui Schmidt, please report to the training gym for your private session."

 _Finally,_ I think _. About time._

I stand up and walk through the door with a hand stuffed in my trouser pockets. Why? I don't really know. It just feels… right.

The Gamemakers stop talking as the sliding door slams behind me. I smile and remove my hand from my pocket.

"Aqui Schmidt, District Four," I shout up at the balcony where they sit.

One of them, probably the Head Gamemaker, smiles at me. "You have fifteen minutes," he says. I nod curtly and rush off to the station with my favorite weapon, the sai. I pick up a pair of sai, and one of the young trainers walks over to me. I put up a hand.

"I'm going to do the holos," I say. He retreats, but pulls a remote from his pocket. I go to the holo station- a large machine that creates moving holograms of people for you to fight, programmed to work just like tributes.

I toss a glance over my shoulder and flash four fingers at the man with the remote. He nods quickly, makes a note on a clipboard, and presses some buttons on his remote. I take my stance on the center pedestal, which triggers the holos.

Orange humanoid forms begin to materialize from the walls of the holo machines. Cameras are trained on me, so that the Gamemakers can see my amazing skill.

One comes up from behind, but I can hear its footsteps and at the last second, I whirl around and stab it in the stomach with a smug smile. As it falls, I whip my head toward the next holo, armed with an axe and rushing toward me from my left. I dodge and stick my right hand sai into the holo's side. It breaks into pixels that disappear as they hit the floor of the machine.

A holographic arrow shoots past me, below my left ear, nicking the fabric on my shoulder but not puncturing it. My head snaps in the direction of the attack- a holo is nestled on the small balcony above me. I dodge another holo arrow and sprint to the stairs that lead to the holo.

I climb the stairs, stopping randomly on a few steps and varying my speed on the others, making my movements unpredictable. As I step off the stairs, the holo aims its bow at me. I jump to the left, just before an arrow flies right at the spot I'd been standing milliseconds before. The holo falls as soon as I thrust a sai into its head.

A fourth and final holo rushes up behind me. I turn reflexively and stab its midriff, then wipe my brow as it falls. I take a bow, aiming my body at a camera right above the holo spawner. The machinery stops whirring as I go down the stairs.

I emerge from out of the simulator and into the gym. The trainer who had set up the sim for me looks a bit surprised, probably wondering why I didn't ask for a harder setting. I defeated the level-four holos easily. Then again, that much was a granted. I'm just that fabulous.

I sprint a few laps of the large gym to show off my endurance and stamina. I try to stifle my uneven breathing, hoping the Gamemakers don't recognize my panting as a sign of weakness. Right as I reach the spot I started, the Head Gamemaker's timer goes off. I smile and take another bow.

"Thank you, thank you. I sincerely hope I have impressed you, for if not, nothing will. Have a nice day." The Gamemakers laugh, and one dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

I leave the training gym grinning. That went very well. The only downside to any of this is that my holos were super easy to defeat, and they probably didn't impress the Gamemakers too much. I shrug. I guess we'll find out.

* * *

 _Aino Tamminen (District Seven Female, age 12)_

* * *

 _I'm sprinting through the forest, the short brunette girl from District Two behind me. My ponytail swings behind me as I run, and I wish desperately I had cut it off. It could be the death of me, if the girl were to grab the end._

 _She's gaining on me. The rest of her posse follows her, yelling out things every once in a while. "Catch her, Katie!" "C'mon, it's not that hard, is it?" "Get her!" I risk a glance backward. The girl is only a few feet behind me. Her huge sword swings by her side, hanging from her belt. A malicious grin adorns her face._

 _I gasp for breath and make myself take a huge burst of speed. My feet are on autopilot, so I don't see the huge rock standing in my way._

 _I trip._

 _Falling to the ground, I whimper. "Don't kill me, please!" The girl laughs, throwing a glance behind her at the rest of her alliance, also all giggling. Only the redhead from Four looks even a bit uncomfortable._

 _The girl from Two unsheathes her sword from its case. I close my eyes, trembling, waiting for the blow._

 _But it doesn't come._

"Aino Tamminen, please report to the training gym for your private session."

The voice from the loudspeaker wakes me. I pant heavily, and Taffeta, my ally, looks at me in concern. I shake my head.

 _Nightmare_ , I mouth. Taffeta nods as I raise my trembling body from my hard black chair and walk to the training gym door. I take a deep breath before I go inside.

The gym is empty, save all the training equipment. I look around for the Gamemakers and find them in the balcony that had been empty for the last few days. I curtsy quickly. "Aino Tamminen, District Seven." My voice cracks slightly. I curse myself for not bringing a water bottle.

A man who I assume is in charge of the Gamemakers holds up a hand. "Silence." The room falls quiet. He turns his head to look at me. "You have fifteen minutes."

I sprint off to the traps station. There, a few mock animals take up most of the small table, along with their controllers, but there are also a couple sticks and some wire strewn throughout the animals. Someone's been here already.

I pick up a stick and begin to craft my snare. The Gamemakers laugh. _Rude,_ I think. _Give me a chance._

The snare forms, slowly but surely. It's small. That's okay, though, because apparently I'm only trapping a small stuffed animal. There's nothing else to trap.

After a few minutes of working, I tie the final knot. I set up a small "fox"- really, it's a stuffed kid's toy- in the trap and walk off carrying the remote. The fox follows my command as I guide it through the masses of mannequin animals. _Over, under, around_. Then, I guide the fox to the trap. It walks straight in and the trap springs, grabbing the fox by its neck. The animal dangles from the supporting stick.

I haven't gotten a time warning yet, so I leave the animal on the snare and head to the dagger station. A small knife sits, almost as if it as waiting for me, on the table. I pick it up. It's a pretty dagger- stainless blade, black leather handle, a case sitting nearby. I turn it in my hand to get used to it.

The targets are nearby, but I need mannequins, so I raise my hand to call an Avox. One scampers over to me.

"Would you bring me two dummies?" I whisper. He bows and runs off while I wait. After about thirty seconds, the Avox I called and two others, one male and one female, drag two dummies over to me. I thank them without thinking. I see the Gamemakers gasp out of the corner of my eye. Dang it. I wasn't supposed to thank them.

My hands move quickly, almost as if I wasn't controlling them. The dummies morph into shredded masses of foam and red gel- the dummies have it in their vital points, representing blood. I didn't even know I could do that, but I'm grateful. It'll get me a higher score. I step back after my work is done, take a bow, and place the knife on the table.

"Aino Tamminen, District Seven." I remind the Gamemakers, curtsying again and leaving politely.

* * *

 _Barric Kerner (District Eleven Male, age 17)_

* * *

When will Bri finish? She's been in there for what seems like hours. I'm getting restless- not that I wasn't earlier. And hungry. That too. I slept in for a few minutes, so my crazy cat lady escort fed my breakfast to her kitties. I hate her.

Finally, after what must be, like, ten minutes, they call my name. I stand up and walk to the door, stretching my legs. That's when I realize I have no plan at all for what to do. I royally messed up.

My legs keep walking, even though my brain screams at me to stop, to think of something, anything to do in the training gym. I force myself to go inside.

There are plenty of things to choose from, that's for sure. I won't be bored, but I will get a low score if I don't think of something right now. I whirl my head around, searching for something that I'm good at. Swords? I could do that, but I feel like I'd fail. And the score for not failing on, say, survival stations, is usually substantially better than the one for failing on swords. I'd look like an idiot. Traps? No, that's not going to score well. Plants? That sounds appealing, actually. I'm decent at plants, coming from the agriculture District.

"Barric Kerner," I say, waiting for the approval of the Head Gamemaker. Nothing comes. I look up to the balcony- the Gamemakers are all eating and laughing at something one of them must have said. I shake my head. Fine. Change of plans. I'm making a poison.

I go to the plants station, pulling berries and leaves randomly from the baskets. I identify the poisonous berries from the pile of plants I took out and begin to mix them up in a small bowl. I crush them with a grindstone, then filter the small amount of juice through a strainer. It comes out a dull green with a hint of red- a perfect color. I sniff the juice and immediately regret it. Ew.

I pour the juice from the current container to a small beaker, capping it and placing it to the side. That'll be for later. For now, I need a knife. I'm going to show off my skills with healing, not just killing.

Rushing to the dagger station, I pick up a knife at random. I place it near the beaker. Then I pick out the aloe vera from the leaves in the pile from earlier. This should soothe my cut, if I do it right.

I clear my throat. "Excuse me. I would like to have your attention."

The Gamemakers turn to look at me. I hold up my dagger. "I am going to heal a cut. I will cut my hand with this dagger, then place an aloe vera leaf on the cut until I have shown off the poison I have concocted. The aloe vera, by this time, will have soothed my cut, and it will heal."

I take the dagger in my fist and take a deep breath before dragging the blade across the back of my palm. It stings, but I only wince a bit. I place a leaf over it, and use some athletic tape to tape the aloe vera on.

"Now. I need a test animal. Is there a dog or cat I could use this poison on?"

The head Gamemaker motions for an Avox to come out. At first, I think he will be carrying a rabbit or something, but then I realize.

The Avox is my test animal.

I take a deep breath. This is meant to be a test of the mind, not just of my plants skills. I have to do this. I grab the test tube in one hand and the Avox's arm in the other.

In, out. He's a criminal. In, out. He would have had the death penalty anyway. In, out. I pick up the poison and a syringe, then pour the poison into it. I sit the Avox on a chair.

"Please, please. I really don't want to do this. Please forgive me." I whisper to him. He nods. Grabbing my hand, he traces words on my palm. From what I can deduce, he's telling me it's okay. I breathe in, out.

"Now, I will inject this poison into the arm of the test subject. It should take action within thirty seconds, and the test subject will be either paralyzed or killed, depending on his immune system."

The Avox shuts his eyes. I grab his hand and take another breath. I am about to kill a man. I am a murderer.

I inject the fluid into his veins. Immediately, the man slumps in his chair. He's dead.

I feel tears stinging my eyes, but I have to finish. "And my cut should be at least partly healed," I say. I take the leaf off to reveal a small scrape. "As you can see, the flora of our world is simply incredible. Barric Kerner, District Nine."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I know, I said there probably wouldn't be a chapter, but I got bored. What else can I say? Also, thanks to Reader Castellan for my inspiration for Barric's Private Session. (RIP Merle!)**

 **I forgot to put this on last chapter, so here are the alliances. Tentative names. If you want to suggest better ones, especially for smOL , Double C's, or the Randoms, feel free.**

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Katie, Aqui, Abby  
** **Study Buddies: Solder, Nokia  
** **Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice: Semolina, Solario, Camilla  
** **Double C's: Duroc, Barric  
** **Likable Optimistic Teenage Boys: Jack, Delancey  
** **Down with the Capitol: Ethan, Sonny  
** **smOL: Taffeta, Aino  
** **The Randoms: Beulah, Demetrius  
** **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Bri, Tilly, Kiara**

 **Questions!**

 _Which alliance are you most excited to see?_

 _For the submitters: Do you like the allies I put your tribute with, if they have an alliance?_

 _Favorite candy?_

 **See you next time!**


	23. Chapter 23: Score Reveal

_Heron Filigree (District One Male, age 18)_

* * *

Score Reveals.

They scare the crap out of me. I hate being judged, so this is literally the worst thing that the Gamemakers could do to me. They're telling me that I am worth a number, one to twelve, and that the number I am assigned will make or break my game. Which is true. That's why I don't like being judged by numbers.

It brings me back to my Academy days, when each year the Academy would measure the strengths and weaknesses of the recruits. My father was my main trainer, which makes me think it may have been rigged, but it probably wasn't. I always scored decently high- sevens, eights, nothing special. However, I was told by Generosity, my mentor, that since a majority of the tributes here have exactly zero skill, I will have a higher one. They do that on purpose, score you lower to set the bar low for the Games.

The TV is playing a commercial, one for trading cards of this year's tributes. Spinning on the screen, I see my District partner's face. _Peridot Jones_ , the card reads. _Predicted Placement: 5_ _th_ _. Age: 17. District One._

I glance over at Peridot. She doesn't respond to the TV, stays curled up in a ball on the couch, knees to chest and head down. She's nervous.

After about three minutes, the TV commercials turn off. The opening notes to Caela Flickerman's show play. Caela is the interviewer and Head of Ceremonies for the Games. Her TV show, Caela Flickerman DAILY, is one of the highest rated in Panem's Capitol. On it, she hypes the Games, their morals, and the President. Replays of previous games are common on the off season. It's actually one of my favorite shows as well.

Peridot's head raises once she hears the voice of Caela. She knows the voice as well as I do, if not better. The Academy was just a bit crazy about her show.

"Welcome, citizens of the great nation of Panem! We are gathered today to reveal the scores for the tributes of the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games!" Caela chirps, excitement lighting up her face. She absolutely loves this job, I can tell. The crowd, off screen but easy to hear, roars. "Let's get right into it." The music changes a bit, to be more suspenseful and a bit whimsical. "Yesterday, each tribute was privately analyzed in the Training Gym by the Gamemakers, led by Juliana Fargo. The Gamemakers have scored each tribute on a scale of one to twelve, twelve being the highest and best score and one being the least and worst. We will now display the scores, and for the first time in Games history, we will also tell you what they were given for. Let us begin with Heron Filigree!" The crowd cheers wildly.

I take a deep breath. They're going to tell the whole nation our strengths. This could be very good, but also very bad.

My tribute photo flashes on the screen. "Heron Filigree has earned a **10** for his skill with martial arts, specifically karate, and daggers."

I release a breath. Yes! That's good! No one will beat that, and I will be the leader! I lean back in the couch, pleased, as Peridot congratulates me halfheartedly. Something is wrong with her. Jen, my mentor, pats me on the back.

"Peridot Jones has earned a **7** for the skills she showed with poisons and plants." The TV says.

I laugh. "A seven, Peri? Really?"

Peridot glares at me. "Shut up, Heron." I can see, though, that she is content with her score. Something's up. And I don't like it.

"Gabriel Alderyne has earned a **9** for his skills with throwing knives," A threat, for sure. I want to take him out early.

"Kathryn Willburn has earned a **10** for her skills with a mace and her speed," I shake my head. I'm being challenged by the youngest member of our alliance. What is this? The alliance better vote for me, not her. We'll fall apart if Katie is in charge.

"Solder Carvahall has earned a **7** for his skills with traps and knives," So, pretty boy from Three is a target. Traps, huh? I'll have to keep an eye out for those…

"Nokia Skypewalker has earned a **3** for her skills with double daggers," Bloodbath. This kid screams bloodbath. It's like she reeks of blood already. I just hope I get to kill the pathetic thing.

"Aqui Schmidt has earned an **8** for his skills fighting holos with sai," Decent score, but how did he only get an 8? They must have been some frickin easy holos. Holos are worth, like, 10s!

"Abalone Rhineheart has earned a **9** for her skills with spears," Abby, Abby, Abby. She actually seems like she's worth keeping around…

"Solario Thunders has earned a **5** for his skills with a dagger," Another bloodbath. All the little kids are gonna be gone early…

"Camilla Hendricks has earned a **5** for her skills with a knife," I dunno. It seems to me like all the outer Districts will get about the same score. I lean back and watch the rest of the scores in silence. Nothing big will happen, anyway...

* * *

 _Kiara Geoffrey (District Six Female, age 14)_

* * *

My heart doesn't always pound, but when it does, it _hurts_. Literally, my chest feels tight and pain comes from the region of my left side chest.

The scores so far have all been above 4, except for the girl from Three, but then again, who cares about her? She'll die early anyway. It's a high bar for me, a little kid from the outskirts of Six, who won't have any advantage unless the Games suddenly change into a speed-reading competition. And I failed my Private Session, too. My knife skills suck, and now the Gamemakers know it.

"Jack McArthy has earned a **6** for his skills with a sword," the TV says. Jack lets out a breath, a breath of relief. He'd told us about his Private Session- he fought a medium-level trainer and won (narrowly). If they're only giving a 6 for that much skill, I bet little old me will end up with a 2.

Everyone congratulates Jack- except me. I sit on the couch, knees to chest, eyes closed. I'm waiting for the inevitable terrible score that will condemn me even further.

I lift up my head and open my eyes just as Jack's picture on the screen turns to mine. A large holographic **5** glitters in the space next to it.

I don't even hear the TV announce my score. I'm celebrating. An average score, that is fantastic. It keeps me from being a target in either direction, and means the Gamemakers think I have at least some skill.

We all quiet down as Jack's ally's face appears on the screen. "Delancey Pinefield has earned a **7** for his skills with axes and hatchets."

Jack smiles. He's pleased. His ally got the perfect score. It's not quite high enough to be considered a threat, but it's high enough for sponsors to take interest in the alliance. And a 6.5 average for the alliance!

"Aino Tamminen has earned a **5** for her skills with traps, snares and daggers." I smile, happy for the girl. She must be celebrating. A five is perfect for kids like us. I almost consider asking her to ally, but then I shake my head. She'd hate me. Just like everyone else.

"Sonny Smaragdine has earned a **4** for his skills with a slingshot." Either this kid sucks, or the Capitol just hates him. Probably the latter, seeing as this is the same kid who had to be knocked out at the Reaping for being rebellious.

"Taffeta Carmen has earned a **3** for her skills with throwing knives." This girl, on the other hand, I sort of know. She and I got stuck on the elevator together, so we had a nice conversation in the dark room. She even asked me to ally. It was really awkward when I told her I couldn't…

"Demetrius Osborne has earned a **6** for his skills with a scythe." Average for Nine. They all usually have some skill with a sickle or scythe, from cutting wheat. But they're usually too nice, or just don't know how to kill with the weapon… It's strange.

"Semolina Citrus has earned a **6** for her skill with a sickle." Again, all too average. I predict she'll chicken out in the bloodbath and accidentally chop her own leg off… or something. Who knows?

"Duroc Merino has earned a **4** for his skills with plants and shelter-building." That surprises me. This guy was actually pretty good with a hatchet in training, and I have no idea why he didn't show it off. Strange. Something's fishy here, like the girl from One's score. That was also really weird.

"Sabrina Cress has earned a **5** for her skills with spears and shelter-building." That one's more predictable. I saw her in training, too, and she's actually pretty decent. She spent a lot of time over at the weapon-building station, so I wouldn't be surprised if she actually made her own spear.

"Barric Kerner has earned a **9** for his skills with plants and poison." A NINE? For poison and plants? That's insane. Peridot only got a seven, and she was lots better in training. Barric must have done something spectacular!

"Tilly Husk has earned a **1** for her singing." The TV announcer looks a bit confused. I am too. What kind of person _sings_ when they could be showing off? Although I do wonder how she did. A one, though. Poor girl.

"Ethan Valentine has earned a **4** for his skill with stealth and knives." I feel really bad for this kid, actually. Only a four? Stealth is usually at least a five, especially when weapons are involved. He got ripped off…

"Finally, Beulah Sairel has earned a **6** for her skill with a knife." That's impressive. I think most of the time, knives are rewarded with only about 4-5's. But a six? She's got some skills, apparently.

 _The tributes this year are all startlingly average_ , I think. _Good. I won't stand out._

And with that, I go to bed.

* * *

 **Well. I said I wouldn't update in November, but here I am updating, what, three times? Yay!** **A bit of a shorter chapter today, sorry...**

 **I will update the blog asap with scores and alliances. Interviews will be split in two chapters, then we'll have the night before/launch, and then the bloodbath! I'm so excited, guys :D And thank you thank you thank you for 200 reviews! I love you all :3**

 **Here are some stats:**

 **Alliance Averages:**

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Katie, Aqui, Abby (AVG TS: 8.8)**

 **Study Buddies: Solder, Nokia (AVG TS: 5)**

 **Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice: Semolina, Solario, Camilla (AVG TS: 5.3)**

 **Double C's: Duroc, Barric (AVG TS: 6.5)**

 **Likable Optimistic Teenage Boys: Jack, Delancey (AVG TS: 6.5)**

 **Down with the Capitol: Ethan, Sonny (AVG TS: 4)**

 **smOL: Taffeta, Aino (AVG TS: 3)**

 **The Randoms: Beulah, Demetrius (AVG TS: 6)**

* * *

 **SCORES:**

 **District One Male: Heron Filigree, a 10**

 **District One Femae:** **Peridot Jones, a 7**

 **District Two Male:** **Gabriel Alderyne, a 9**

 **District Two Female:** **Kathryn "Katie" Willburn, a 10**

 **District Three Male:** **Solder Carvahall, a 7**

 **District Three Female:** **Nokia Skypewalker, a 3**

 **District Four Male:** **Aqui Schmidt, an 8**

 **District Four Female:** **Abalone "Abby" Rhineheart, a 9**

 **District Five Male:** **Solario Thunders, a 5**

 **District Five Female:** **Camilla Hendricks, a 5**

 **District Six Male:** **Jack McArthy, a 6**

 **District Six Female:** **Kiara Geoffrey, a 5**

 **District Seven Male:** **Delancey Pinefield, a 7**

 **District Seven Female:** **Aino Tamminen, a 5**

 **District Eight Male:** **Sonny Smaragdine, a 4**

 **District Eight Female:** **Taffeta Carmen, a 3**

 **District Nine Male:** **Demetrius Osborne, a 6**

 **District Nine Female:** **Semolina Citrus, a 6**

 **District Ten Male:** **Duroc Merino, a 4**

 **District Ten Female:** **Sabrina "Bri" Cress, a 5**

 **District Eleven Male:** **Barric Kerner, a 9**

 **District Eleven Female:** **Tilly Husk, a 1**

 **District Twelve Male:** **Ethan Valentine, a 4**

 **District Twelve Female:** **Beulah Sairel, a 6**

* * *

 **Questions!**

 _How were the scores in general? Too high? Too low?_

 _Are there any specific scores you think should be higher or lower?_

 _Favorite chip?_

 **See you all later!**


	24. Chapter 24: Interviews Part 1

_Solder Carvahall (District Three Male, age 17)_

* * *

It's interview night. I'm pretty nervous, but not as nervous as Nokia. She's shaking, poor thing, as we walk from the Tribute Remake Center, after our makeover. I try to comfort her by reaching out and grabbing her hand. She squeezes it tight, and closes her eyes.

"You okay?" I whisper to her.

Nokia's head shakes slightly. "Nervous."

"I know, kiddo. Me too," I sigh. "Me too."

We're dressed in extravagant clothes. Nokia wears a chrome-green dress covered with black and blue sparkles on the bodice. They are on the tulle skirt, as well, but they get more and more sparse and eventually peter out toward the bottom. She also has on black tights and little green shoes. Her long hair is braided in an intricate design that I don't know the name of, but that sure looks pretty.

I'm dressed in a black tuxedo that is covered in silver wire. It occasionally shoots sparks between wires, which makes me flinch. My tie is a shimmery metallic silver and made of a thin gauze. My shoes are black, simple, but I wear silver socks made of the same material as the tie. My hair has been gelled up so it won't move.

Neither one of us, though, are as extravagant as the Fours. Abby, the girl, wears literally nothing except a coconut bra and a silver mermaid skirt. It's pretty, especially since her long red curly hair falls down in waves past her back, but she doesn't really have the right body type. It might be attractive on the One girl, but definitely not on Abby.

Aqui wears a costume similar to his partner's. A golden mermaid tail- how are they going to walk?!- and nothing else. His hair is slicked up to make it look wet, and he carries a trident. He doesn't look happy. Their stylists went all out for sure, and though it makes sense for their District, it's a little over-the-top.

Peridot and Heron have already given their interviews by the time we push through the last of the adoring Capitol citizens. Katie, dressed in a red brick-colored dress and hair in curls, walks out and begins her three minute interview. Nokia grips my hand tight while the backstage workers direct us to our line: District order, females first. I notice the snarky boy from Twelve crossing his arms over his chest and frowning in displeasure. I don't blame him. It must suck to always be last.

As Katie exits the stage, the boy from her District, Gabriel, walks out. Nokia takes a deep breath. I put a hand on her shoulder. "You got this."

We listen to Gabriel's interview while we wait. He says something about his sister, voice shaking. It's really weird to think that he has a sister, seeing as the kid must be only a few years younger than the twelve-year-olds and even Nokia. He's obviously afraid, and he stammers a lot, but overall the interview goes pretty smoothly.

Nokia goes out next. I take a breath in and cross my arms. She perches gently on the chair after shaking hands with Caela Flickerman, and they launch into conversation.

"So, Nokia! You look beautiful!"

"T-thank you," Nokia stammers. _Oh, poor kid._

They chat on for a while about the dress Nokia has on, and Caela asks a few questions about Three. _Good_ , I think. _She won't ask me now._ Nokia's really struggling through the interview, but then Caela asks about me.

"I saw you backstage with Solder. You two seem very close. Are you allies?"

"Yes, we are." Nokia says, smiling. Finally, a subject she's comfortable with.

Caela smiles. "May I ask if you are more than that?"

"If you're implying boyfriend and girlfriend, you're wrong. I'm much too young for Solder. But he was my study partner in school before I was- R-Reaped."

"Well, good luck to the both of you," Caela says, smiling kindly at Nokia, who walks offstage to cheers, relieved.

Caela turns back to the audience. "Next up, from the same District as our sweet little Nokia, we have Solder Carvahall!"

I walk outstage, waving gently to the audience and smiling impishly. Caela shakes my hand before we sit down again on the plush red chairs.

"Solder. How are you this fine night?"

"Quite well, thank you very much, although I am slightly nervous about tomorrow." I reply. I'm lying. I'm extremely nervous, but of course I'm not going to say that in front of everyone.

"Wouldn't everyone be?" Caela grins. "And how is Nokia as an ally? Are you excited to work with her?"

I smile, trying to stall. After a few seconds, I find the right words. "Honestly, I feel like she's the sister I never had. She's sweet, and kind, and helpful, and I can't be more excited to work with her. She'll be a great ally."

The audience _awww_ 's collectively. I smile again.

Caela asks me a few more questions about friends- Donna, Kenny- my family, which I don't open too much of, and the Games. As the buzzer rings and I stand up, Caela smiles gently at me. "Good luck to Solder Carvahall!"

* * *

 _Camilla Hendricks (District Five Female, age 14)_

* * *

My dress is really itchy, and that's the least of my problems. I'm next up for the interviews. And in one day, I will likely be dead or dying.

Now do you see why I'm anxious?

Caela and Aqui are almost done with their interview. I smooth my dress- a royal purple one with a yellow lightning bolt across the chest and skirt- down for the tenth time this minute and pat my hair down again. Caela smiles and shakes Aqui's hand. He stands up and walks offstage, making room for me in the chair.

"Now, from the fabulously bright Electricity District, welcome CAMILLA HENDRICKS!"

The crowd smiles and claps politely, although it's nothing compared to what the Careers and even Nokia got. _Pat, pat, pat._ I amble onstage quickly so it won't be awkward, and smile at Caela. She shakes my hand and sits me in the plushy velvet loveseat.

"Camilla Hendricks! How are you this beautiful evening?"

I dip my head respectfully. "Fine, thank you."

My angle is simple- only answer direct questions and keep it brief. I've practiced a lot of the potential questions before hand, as well, so it hopefully won't be awkward. Of course it will be, though. I'm Camilla Hendricks. What else do you expect?

"So. Are you allied?"

This seems to be a common question. I think through it quickly- it's not a hard question nor one that will get me in trouble, so I go with my gut. "I am. I'm with Solario, my partner, and Semolina."

Caela nods. "And are you ready for the games? You look very ready."

I tilt my head from side to side in a "so-so" gesture. "As ready as I'm going to get. It doesn't get much more ready than this." _Oh, shit, why'd I say that? That was awkward. I repeated my sentence!_ I breathe in, out, in. _It's okay, Camilla. Chill out. Be an ice cube._

Caela gives me a reassuring look. "Tell me about home. Who were your friends?"

I look for the right words. "My best friend is Antonette. She's really a good kid, even if she has an odd way of showing it. Love you, Anteater. And my mother and father. They're divorced, so I don't see them all the time. I miss you guys."

"Do you have siblings?"

She asked the one question I had no good answer for. I think hard. How should I answer it? I must have been thinking for a long while, because after I consider three different wordings, including just flat-out lying and telling her no, Caela repeats the question.

"Sorry," I stammer. "I have one sister. Her name's Nicoline. She's my twin sister. I miss her a lot, but I hope I get back to see her again."

"I hope so too." Camilla motions me up and I release a breath. "Thank you, Camilla. Good luck tomorrow in the Arena. May the odds be ever in your favor. Camilla, everyone!"

I run offstage and pat down my dress again. _Pat, pat, pat._ Solario's next.

As I peek out from behind the curtains, I feel a tap on my shoulder. An Avox smiles at me, motioning me to follow her. I do, and she leads me to a television around which all the tributes are gathered. We all stare up at the screen as Solario's small frame skits out onto the stage.

Solario's interview goes really well at first. He answers questions flawlessly and smiles at just the right time. But then, Caela enters the touchy subject zone.

"What are your feelings on the Games? Surely a sweet boy like you has some thoughts for us?"

Solario's mouth forms into a line. He really hates this question, I can tell.

"Don't do anything stupid, kid," I whisper. It's like he heard me. He smiles politely and the crowd holds its breath.

"Personally, I do not feel that the Hunger Games are a good way to punish the Districts for their rebellion, although I do believe that they should be punished."

"Such wise words from such a young man! Thank you for your time, Solario. I hope your night is as amazing as your personality! Good luck in the Games!"

Solario thanks Caela quietly and traipses offstage. I grab his hand as soon as he comes backstage. "Come on." We walk quickly to the District Five suites, Solario following me and having to run every few steps because he's so short.

"Good job, kiddo," I say once we get to the suites. Let's get some food and watch for Semolina."

* * *

 _Delancey Pinefield (District Seven Male, age 15)_

* * *

My tree suit ticks me off. It's really uncalled for, dressing us as autumn oaks with falling leaves and all. It's just going to be a distraction. Besides, Aino and I were trees already, and so were all ninety-two District Seven tributes before us. I wouldn't mind the outfit so much if it weren't so overused.

Aino's onstage now, smiling and giggling with the interviewer. The crowd loves her. Of course they do. Everyone loves the little girl from Seven (who, by the way, has no chance but is cute anyway). Her outfit also really looks cute on her, which is a bonus in her book. She's wearing an orange and yellow collage dress of leaves, which occasionally drops a leaf from the bottom of the skirt.

It's my turn. Aino walks offstage, and the interviewer raises the mike to her mouth once more.

"We're past halfway! Let's get this party going for real, starting with our District Seven Male. Delancey Pinefield, head out here!"

I walk out to the chairs, shake hands with Caela, and sit down. Caela smiles at me and asks the first question.

"So, Delancey, how do you think the Games are going to go?"

I shrug. "I can only hope. I'll probably just hide the whole time. After all, I am a tree," I say, motioning to my orange suit, made of actual leaves. The crowd giggles as I grin. "Get it? Cause trees have good camouflage?"

A polite chuckle escapes Caela's mouth, although I know she doesn't actually find me that funny. _Sorry, Caela, there's more where that came from._

"And you scored a seven in the private sessions! Impressive, you see, because you tied with Peridot, our District One Female. What are your thoughts on that?"

"Peridot is a very talented young woman and I am pleased to have met her. Having said that, I am looking forward to tension between her alliance, the Careers, and mine."

"Alliance! Who are you allied with?"

"Jack McArthy, of District Six," I reply. "If you recall, he scored only one point lower than I did. I think we're both contenders, and strong ones, at that."

"I would agree." Caela tells me. I dip my head in thanks.

Caela raises a finger. "So, Delancey, I have a question for you I'm not sure you'll want to answer. If you don't want to, you don't have to, but I think we all would like to know the answer. What is your weapon of choice?"

I think before speaking. I don't want to answer, she's right. However, I have an idea. I will lie about my weapon, hopefully fake out some Careers or something. And since I got a high training score, I'll blindside them with an axe when I get to the Games. They won't see it coming.

"I prefer throwing knives," I reply to Caela.

She raises an eyebrow slightly. "In Seven?"

"Yes. I found in training that my aim is spectacular." It feels dirty to lie through my teeth, but I swallow the feeling.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do splendidly in the Games."

"I hope so! After all, my life is on the line. _Literally_ ," I grin, trying to make light of the situation. It's a scary situation to be in, the Games. They really pile on the stress. As if I didn't have enough to deal with before.

"Tell me about your family," Caela says, leaning forward in her chair.

I purse my lips. "Well, my dad's name is Dalton. My mom, I don't know what happened to her. She just disappeared when I was ten. My twin sister, Harley, is my best friend. And I have two little brothers: Quentin, who's thirteen, and Darwin, the youngest. He's eleven."

"Your mother. What was her name?" Caela asks me. Her eyes are wide, like she knows something.

"Fiona. Fiona Pinefield. Why?"

"Just curious."  
I don't believe her. She's obviously hiding something. I don't know what, but I want to know. _Not here!_ my conscience screams at me. _You'll find out later._

I stifle the urge to question Caela as the timer rings. She stands me up and announces me once more to the audience. "Delancey Pinefield, everyone!"

I walk offstage with a skip in my step. If my plan worked, then I'll have fooled the Careers into taking the throwing knives so I can't have them and leaving the axes. Then I'll have a weapon for sure!

I smile all the way back to the District Seven floor of the Tribute center. Aino looks at me weird the whole way. I'm never this smiley.

But it's deserved tonight.

* * *

 **Look! It's me, back again!**

 **Sorry the chapter took so long. Finals are the dumbest thing ever created. I'm here now, though.**

 **Shoutout! Caleb, the submitter of Peridot, our D1F, has a story up called Free Falling. It's great so far, and Caleb's completed 9 SYOT's so if that's not motivation to submit I dunno what is. Submit!**

 **Questions!**

 _Fave POV?  
_ _Are you excited for the bloodbath? Two more chapters!  
Are you submitting to Caleb?_

 **See you all later!**


	25. Chapter 25: Interviews Part 2

_Taffeta Carmen (District Eight Female, age 14)_

* * *

I flatten down my red velvet dress as I stand in front of the curtain, waiting for my turn at the intereviews. Caela Carter is almost finished interviewing Delancey, so my turn isn't too far away now.

I take a deep breath. I'm lucky. Although I was cursed with many anxieties and fears, stage fright isn't one of them. This shouldn't be that big of a deal.

Delancey's interview is basically over at this point. Caela's just filling empty space. It's like she doesn't know what to say. I can't blame her all that much. From what I know about my fellow tributes, we're a boring bunch.

The buzzer rings and I zone out as Caela ends Delancey's interview. Honestly, that kid thinks he's deceptive? Everyone knows he likes axes, not knives.

The Capitol audience cheers as Caela dismisses Delancey. Not rudely, but in a nice way- they obviously don't want Delancey to go. They quiet down as Caela introduces me and I walk outstage. I frowwn, just the slightest bit. I knew I was disliked, but really? I couldn't have gotten polite applause?

I wipe the frown off my face as I shake hands with Caela. She sits me down and welcomes me.

"Taffeta. How are you today, dear? Nervous? Exited?"

"I'm doing great, thanks, Caela. A bit nervous, seeing as the Games start tomorrow, but definitely not that bad."

"That's great to hear. And speaking of the Games, how are you feeling about them?"

I purse my lips. I wanted to avoid this subject. The Games are something I have mixed feelings on. On the one hand, there was a girl in sixth grade called Jessica who bullied me, bad, and was Reaped and killed in the Games. After that, I wasn't as afraid of the Hunger Games. On the other hand, now I'm in Jessica's position. It's really a touchy subject for me.

"I'm not sure. Nervous, of course. I could very well die tomorrow, or within the next few days. But also, it could be good."

Caela nods in that way that people do when they really don't believe a child, but they don't want to insult them. "You mean you could win?"

"No," I say. I take a deep breath. Here it is, the other subject I wanted to avoid. Fantastic. "Honestly, for me, death would be a release. It would take me away from my anxiety and my fears. It would save me from humiliation back home, even if I win. And if I die in the bloodbath, it hopefully won't be painful. So I'm not afraid of death."

"Not afraid of death." It's a statement, not a question.

"Nope. I'm not afraid of death, I'm afraid of killing."

Caela raises her eyebrows. "Certainly a very interesting take on things, isn't it, folks?"

The crowd murmurs. One man begins to clap slowly and others join in until almost the whole audience of people is on their feet, stomping and cheering. Some of them are more enthusiastic than others, and some wealthy-looking parents in the front have even restrained their children from clapping. I wonder why. It's strange to me, that there are so many people clapping for me, me, of all people. I'm just a little fourteen-year-old child with her name on Death's list.

Caela, I notice, is looking a little pale. She seems to not like what's going on. She waves an arm and flashes a symbol of sorts to the camera, and all of a sudden, Peacekeepers storm the crowd.

My eyes widen. My buzzer goes off, but no one seems to care. There are screams and shouts erupting from the crowd as the Peacekeepers swarm toward the man who started the clapping.

Then it hits me.

They think I'm a rebel.

I go over what I'd said inside my head. I can certainly see how it came off as rebellious. Oh no.

A gunshot erupts from the middle of the mass of Peacekeepers. The screams, already loud and plentiful, seem to multiply by thousands. High pitched wailing fills my ears as a Peacekeeper shuffles onstage and grabs my arm roughly. I don't resist when he pulls me away from the stage and into the hall.

We pass the other tributes on the way. The younger ones- Bri, Semolina, Sonny, and Ethan- all have their eyes shut. In Semolina and Bri's cases, their eyes are closed voluntarily. Bri is shaking a bit, and Duroc strokes her hair. Ethan and Sonny are struggling behind the hands of Beulah and Barric. It looks like they are either rebels themselves, or just extremely over-curious. I can't really judge them. I'd do the same.

The Peacekeeper is silent until we get to my floor of the Tribute Center. He pushes me through the door, locks it, and says, "Stay here."

I don't even try to get out. I grab a croissant and sit on the floor in my room.

 _What have I done?_

* * *

 _Semolina Citrus (District Nine Female, age 14)_

* * *

This is a mess.

Two rebellious interviews in a row. I'm sure Taffeta wasn't rebellious on purpose, but Sonny definitely was. I really don't like how this is going, especially since I have to follow up on the two most debated interviews in a while. It won't be pretty.

After Taffeta's interview, many of the potential sponsors simply up and left. Whether they thought they were in danger or they had already found tributes to sponsor, no one in the line of tributes could decide, but they left. Honestly, what's the point of doing interviews if there aren't any sponsors to impress?

Most of the familes with small children left too. Honestly, I'm glad about that. Kids like them shouldn't be seeing the Games in the first place. It makes me sick to think that there were Peacekeepers storming through them, guns in hand, fingers on their triggers, ready to kill anyone who got in their way. And boy, did they kill! Through both interviews, the Capitol located about seven rebellious subjects and all seven were killed within thirty seconds.

At any rate, I have to clear my mind. I'm up next and I have to be ready. I pat down my blonde hair and run my tongue over my teeth. Okay. This is your moment. Shine, girl.

Caela, though a bit frazzled, is still running the interviews well. She introduces me and I walk onstage to music I recognize. It's some traditonal folk song from Nine, called Oh Susannah. It was one of my favorites as a child.

The few scragglers who are left in the audience smile and clap politely. I know they're really only here to make us leftovers feel half-decent about our pathetic selves. We certainly aren't getting sponsorships out of them, but it's nice to see people who kind of care. That was a foreign concept for me in prison...

"Welcome, Semolina! How are you this evening?"

I shrug. "Considering I'm likely going to die tomorrow and I just witnessed a bunch of people die, I'd say pretty decently."

Caela giggles a bit, but gives me a warning look. Her piercing eyes drill into mine. "And are you ready for the Games tomorrow, would you say?"

"I would say so," I reply. "I have allies ready to get my back and I myself am feeling confident in my abilities, so hopefully all goes well and we all get out alive."

"Allies! Ah, yes, you're allied with Camilla and Solario, are you not?"

"I am. And they're some of the best friends I've had in a long while."

"That's good. It's always nice to see friendships form in the Capitol. Tell me, though, about your friends back home."

Panic begins to set in. I could tell her about my family, or my former cellmates? But honestly? I haven't had actual friends since about third grade.

Then, I remember my time in the Justice Building, when the only person I can truly call a friend came to see me. I nod.

"My best friend is a girl named Faith Cane. She is really the sweetest thing. I... lost touch with her for a few years, but when she came to the Justice Building to see me, I realized that she really was a great friend. Ever since, I've felt guilty for leaving her for so long. Faith, if you hear this... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

The audience lets out a collective "aweeee", but Caela just looks bored with my story. She looks at the timer, subtly but not subtly enough. Rude.

"So, Semolina, what are your hobbies back home?" she asks. Again, panic sets in. I really have no hobbies in prison. What am I supposed to do? I mean, there's not really much to do for fun if you're stuck in a box with metal walls all day.

I open my mouth and pray that something good comes out. "P-painting," Painting? Really, Semolina? Now I'll have to take up painting if I win. That'd be an adventure. Thankfully, I'm almost positive the Capitol won't let me win. They rarely let criminals win, especially from my District, the most boring one.

My buzzer goes off before Caela can ask any more questions, thankfully. I smile as she takes my hand and we stand.

"Everyone, Semolina Citrus of District Nine!"

I wave as I walk offstage, basking in the lights for just one minute before ducking behind the curtain. My mentor, Rysie, waits for me.

"Painting?" she says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Don't bug me about it. I had to come up with something!"

Rysie smiles. "Oh, fine." We walk off to the Tribute Center, talking about my strategy the whole way.

I am ready for tomorrow.

* * *

 _Sabrina "Bri" Cress (District Ten Female, age 13)_

* * *

It has been a long night, and it's not over yet. I still have to give my interview, then after me comes Duroc and the Elevens and Twelves. However, I'm sure tonight is nothing compared to the cold, sleepless nights I'll face in the Games.

Demetrius and Semolina have calmed the crowd down substantially since the rebellious-ish interviews from Taffeta and Sonny. That's good. It means that I don't have much of a strain on me to calm everyone down. And since I don't have to do that, I have wiggle room to go with my planned strategy.

Caela and Demetrius stand, and Demetrius leaves the stage, waving all the while. Caela consults her notes. I take a bit of offense to that- I know I'm young and weak, but frankly, she can't bother to learn the names and Districts of the tributes she's interviewing? Even if we are going to die in a week or two, we are human.

"Now, we have a very special guest from the rolling hills and gentle plains of District Ten. Please welcome Sabrina Cress!" Caela yells to the crowd. Mild, bored applause patters through the stands. I roll my eyes and plaster a smile on my face as I walk out to the plushy chair set up for me.

"Sabrina!" Caela says to me as we sit. "How are you this fine evening?"

"Please, call me Bri. I'm doing fantastic! How about you?"

"The same. How are you enjoying the Capitol?"

This is my time. My strategy, to flatter the audience and make them feel good about themselves and their home, goes into action.

"It's simply amazing. Everyone has been so nice. And don't even get me started on the food. Your beds are so plushy too! And everyone I've met has been so pretty or handsome!"

The lies slip from my mouth easily. It surprises me- I'm not really a liar. Quite honestly, I find the Capitol fashions unflattering at best, and the majority of the food is way too sugary. The beds were nice, though.

"Well, we're so glad you're enjoying your stay. Tell me, Bri. Have you got allies to get your back in the games?"

I shake my head. "No, I think I'll be best off working alone. I have made truce pacts with some others, though I don't think I will be sharing who they are."

"Wise words. And you look so beautiful tonight!"

I glance down at the dress I'm wearing- a light blue one with short sleeves, a tulle-y skirt, and a bunch of glitter on the bodice. Personally, I'd thought it was a bit over-the-top, but coming from a Capitol lady it's not surprising that it's liked.

"Thank you! That is the fine handiwork of my stylists- Brizz, Brazz, and Bruzz. They have the best ideas."

"I can see that. They have made you look so pretty tonight. Now, if you don't mind, I do have one more question for you." She looks at me expectantly.

"Go on," I tell her. Honestly, I could care less about her questions. But I have to keep up my act.

"Tell me about your home. Your family. Your friends. All that. Give us a good picture of your life."

I do. "I have great friends. Sandi and Charlie and Bella. I love each of them." I turn to face the camera. "Sandi, thank you for helping me when I was new at work. You helped me fit in. Bella, I love you. I hope you find a guy as awesome as you, and I hope he treats you right. Charlie, thank you for being like my brother. You and Sandi are my role models. Thank you for that."

I look back at Caela. "My mom and dad, they work hard to help us stay afloat. I miss them with all of me. Jean and Kid, you guys, I love you. Help Mommy and Daddy, Jean, with the chores. And Kid, keep being you."

A tear pricks my eye. This is going to be tough. "I had another sister for a day. Camellia. You were going to be my best friend. You were going to be my playmate. I loved you. I named you. I miss you." I wipe the tear from my cheek. "And... I guess I'll see you soon up there in heaven."

My buzzer sounds. Caela wipes a tear away, but I'm sure it's fake. She stands me up. I sniffle but stand as tall as I can.

"Bri Cress, thank you for your time! We wish you the best of luck!"

I give her a watery smile and rush offstage to my Mentor's side. We walk slowly, silently, to the Tribute center and up the elevator, where she drops me off and leaves to go watch Duroc.

I go to my room, miserable, and cry myself to sleep.

* * *

 **Welp, here I am. Better late then never, I suppose.**

 **I have about nothing to say. Only one more chapter, though! The Launch is next chapter... and then, the bloodbath! I'm really excited to finally be in the Games.**

 **Questions!**

 _Did you expect Taffeta's interview to go that way? (To be honest, I didn't. It just... came out XD)_  
 _Who do you think will die in the bloodbath?_  
 _Who do you want to die in the bloodbath?_  
 _And how are you today?_

 **See you later!**


	26. Chapter 26: Night Before and Launch

_Sonny Smaragdine (District Eight Male, age 14)_

* * *

It's quiet as I slip out of my bedroom at two-o-clock in the morning. Everyone is getting a good night's sleep before the Games- except me. I can't sleep. There's something bugging me.

I put on my jacket and take the elevator to the bottom floor, then walk straight out of the Tribute Center. It's strange that they let us do that. I'd have guessed there'd be at least a few guards, waiting to take us back to our rooms. Can't let the precious playthings get hurt before their time! But no one stops me, and I stuff my hands in my pockets, walking in the gardens outside the Tribute Center.

I walk for a few moments, alone in my thoughts and the silence of the night, before I remember what was bugging me earlier. I retract my left hand from my jacket pocket and put it into my jeans pocket. It's there.

A packet of red poppy seeds rests in my palm when I pull my hand out of the pocket. I clutch it in my fist and whip my head around. There are lots of flowers here, tulips and azaleas and daisies, but no open flower beds. I start to jog through the gardens, my path illuminated by the moon, looking for a place to plant the seeds I'd brought from District Eight so long ago.

At last, I spot a patch of earth, barren and rocky. No Capitolite would plant flowers in such an ugly spot, so the earth has been untouched for years, I'm sure. I kneel by the patch and unfold the packet of seeds.

I carefully count out twenty-three seeds. Placing them on the ground and zipping the packet shut, I start to dig twenty-three little holes to plant the twenty-three red poppy seeds in. It's hard work: having been left alone for years, the earth is drier than what is optimal, and there are pebbles and rocks littering it. I break a few nails before I finish the holes. It doesn't stop me, like how killing won't stop the Victor. _It's fitting_ , I think to myself.

Once I have dug all the holes, I pick up a single seed and drop it in the first hole. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer for the fallen tribute this poppy will grow to represent. I don't pray to any God in particular. I pray to the gods of the world, to the spirits, to anyone who will listen.

I repeat this process twenty-two more times. By the time I'm done and the holes are all filled, my fingers are coated with blood and dirt.

Red poppies, I once read in a gardening book, are representative of death in war, especially before the Dark Days. It's a fitting tribute, in a way, to us, the tributes of the Forty-Seventh Annual Hunger Games. Twenty-three of us will die for one to live.

It's sickening. It's revolting. It makes me want to rebel.

And this, though it isn't much at all, will have to do. It's a small rebellion, a private one- I'm doubtful many people will take notice of the twenty-three red poppies, and those who do will probably just brush it off- and, yet, it's so satisfying.

I slip my jacket back on and place the poppy seeds back in my bag. Out of the other pocket, I pull a piece of paper, hastily scribbled on days before. It's an ancient poem, from before the Dark Days. It took some work to get the poem, and I still don't understand all of it, especially the parts about "Flanders Fields", but the boy from Three was lots of help breaking into the Capitol computers.

I clear my throat and read off the paper.

"Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,  
Sleep sweet – to rise anew!  
We caught the torch you threw  
And holding high, we keep the Faith  
With All who died.

We cherish, too, the poppy red  
That grows on fields where valor led;  
It seems to signal to the skies  
That blood of heroes never dies,  
But lends a luster to the red  
Of the flower that blooms above the dead  
In Flanders Fields.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red  
We wear in honor of our dead.  
Fear not that ye have died for naught;  
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought  
In Flanders Fields."

I fold the paper and tuck it under a stone near the poppies, then salute the little flower-grave with two fingers. I trudge away from the poppies and back to the Tribute Center, where I lie on my bed for hours. I know I should sleep, but it really just isn't going to happen.

I lay in bed with my thoughts until my alarm goes off at six am. I slap the button and go to my bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, I comb my disheveled hair with my fingers and breathe in.

Today's the day. And I'm ready as I'll ever be.

* * *

 _Duroc Merino (District Ten Male, age 17)_

* * *

My self-programmed alarm goes off at six am. I can hear the rest of the building's alarms beeping too after I shut my own off, which is very annoying. I get out of bed quickly, and go to the bathroom, where I find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"That's not your arena outfit, so don't get any ideas yet," a voice calls from my doorway. "I've got to wake Bri up. That kid could sleep through a tornado."

Bronco, my mentor. He has a tendency to come into rooms unannounced. I shrug and pull on the jeans and t-shirt. They fit perfectly, like everything else in the Capitol. It's really quite creepy.

I stare in the mirror and rinse off my face, then dry off and head down the hall to the dining room. A huge feast has been set up, sausage and pancakes and syrup and eggs and even doughnuts. It's a pity we're not going to eat any of it.

At least I'm not. Nerves gather in my stomach like a bunch of butterflies. I force down a glass of water, but no food. It's no use trying to eat- I'll just throw it all up, which is bad because who knows how much food I'll get out of the Bloodbath?

A posse of Peacekeepers bursts into the room at seven-thirty. One grabs my arm, another gets Bri, and a third usher Flutter, the other mentor, and Bronco behind us as we make our way out the door and into waiting hovercrafts. They seperate us, Bri going to a hovercraft to the left of us, and me to one straight ahead. There is a third hovercraft, too, and after Bronco gives us some last advice, he and Flutter board it.

Inside the hovercraft is like nothing I've ever seen- chrome and silver, with velvety seats. I take a seat in the spot marked (D10M) in bold lettering, and my escorts buckle me in. One of them pulls out a large syringe and before I can react, he grabs my arm and stabs it in. It stings a lot, and I grimace.

"Tracker," the Peacekeeper says. Oddly enough, this Peacekeeper is female. It makes me wonder how many different escorts I've had. I've never once heard a female Peacekeeper. "It'll tell the Gamemakers your location in the Arena. Nothing to worry about."

After all the tributes board, an announcement crackles to life over a loudspeaker.

"Tributes, we will lift off shortly. Expect an hour or so in flight time. There are air-sickness bags in the compartments above you."

We do lift off very shortly. There are no windows in the hovercraft, but I can feel the lifting sensation. I've never felt anything like it. It's be surreal if I weren't flying to my immenent death.

I sleep for the full hour. What else is there to do? I wake as the hovercraft lands with a bump, and the Peacekeepers unbuckle our restraints. We are escorted down seperate halls, one for each tribute. It's then that the butterflies from earlier start to take off.

In the room at the end of the hall, there is a pair of boxers, a t-shirt made of athletic material and marked with a (10), a pair of spandex legging-like pants, a jacket, again marked with a (10), socks, and nice, tractioned running shoes. I put them all on, and no surprise, they fit perfectly.

"Attention tribute. The launch will commence in one minute. Please proceed to your tube."

I grab one gulp of water from a fountain in the room, then pace for a good thirty seconds.

"Attention tribute. The launch will commence in fifteen seconds. Please proceed to your tube."

I do so. Glass slides around me, and I'm sealed in. There's no going back.

"Ten."

I miss my parents.

"Nine."

I miss my home.

"Eight."

I miss my job.

"Seven."

I miss my bedroom.

"Six."

My butterflies erupt into action.

"Five."

I suddenly regret not going to the bathroom beforehand.

"Four."

The bile rises in my throat.

"Three."

I gag, but swallow the vomit. I can't throw up, not here.

"Two."

Someone help me.

"One."

I don't want to die.

The tube raises up to the surface, through a tunnel of stone. Bright sun blinds me all of a sudden. I grasp my surroundings as the coundown starts. I'm standing in a grassy valley, with rolling hills and long stalks of wheat and wildflowers all over. There's a patch of red and purple flowers in the distance.

And in front of me, in the center of the tribute ring, disrupting the beauty, there is a large pile of weapons, bags, food, water, and anything else you can possibly think of. Near me, there is a blue bag and a small coil of rope. I stand ready to run.

The timer ticks the seconds away. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

And then-

Chaos.

* * *

 _Poem is not mine: it is called "We Shall Keep The Faith" and it's by Moina Michael. All rights to Michael._

* * *

 **You guys. It's here. The Bloodbath is _next chapter._**

 **I'm so excited and yet so sad. We have to say goodbye to twenty-three of these amazing characters. It's breaking my heart. I love every one of them.**

 **What will happen to your characters in future chapters is going to be tough. I'm sorry about that. I am also sorry that twenty-three of them won't win. But please, do not take offense if I kill your character early on! Every one of them will be missed and I will keep every one of them in my heart. Forever.**

 **I have only one question for you today.**

 _What do you think the arena is, based on the cover photo, story name, and descriptions in this chapter?_

 **Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you decide to stay even if your tribute dies early.**

 **See you all later. (And may the odds be ever in your favor!)**


	27. Chapter 27: The Bloodbath

_Generosity "Jen" Greenland (District One Mentor)_

* * *

The gong sounds, and chaos takes over. Most of the tributes head toward the horn, but the girl from Ten merely grabs the closest backpack to her and rushes out of the Bloodbath. She's out of there before my tributes even make it to the horn. Smart girl.

Peridot and Heron spot each other as they run to the pile of loot. Peridot grabs the nearest weapon to her, a machete, and whips around to face a small girl, the one from Three, I'm prety sure. The unlucky girl goes to grab a knife, but Peridot moves in front of her.

"What a shame," she says, shaking her head and plunging the machete into the girl's stomach. The small girl falls to the ground with a yelp, coughs up blood, and rolls onto her stomach. She goes still within the time it takes for Peridot to rummage through the weapons, hand Heron a vest of throwing knives, and pick up a dagger for herself. She drops the bloody machete on the ground with disdain and joins Heron in the fight.

I let out a breath. My tributes have each others' backs and their weapons of choice. There's no stopping them now.

* * *

 _Rysie Jotz (District Nine Mentor)_

* * *

All around me, my fellow mentors stare at the screen with baited breath. Beetee's eyes are wide, having just watched the death of his female tribute. He looks pale, but keeps watching. He's too young for this.

Skype, his mentoring partner, just shrugs and swigs her drink. "Another one bites the dust."

Demetrius is so foolish. I told him not to go in, to grab a bag near him or something and meet Beulah. But nooo, the stupid kid had to go in. He'll get himself killed. Semolina follows my instructions, though- she runs to the back of the stack of supplies and picks up a sickle from the pile, then runs toward her allies.

I flick my eyes back towards the screen labeled (D9M). Demetrius. Oh my God. What is he doing?! The kid grabs a knife, then turns around. He jumps backward. Heron Filigree stands in front of him.

"Seems like you should have listened to your Mentor, huh?" Heron taunts as he runs a sword through Demetrius' neck. It's not a clean cut- Heron must not like swords- but Demetrius' eyes dim and as he falls, his head splits from his body in a shower of blood. Heron wipes the blood from his face with a disgusted expression and jogs off.

I shake my head. Dumbass kid.

* * *

 _Woof Casino (District Eight Mentor)_

* * *

Taffeta and Sonny both went into the Bloodbath, like we warned them not to. Of course they did. Ironically, they're both pretty well off so far. Taffeta has an axe, not her best weapon, but a weapon nonetheless, and Sonny and Ethan have met up and started to jog away, knives in hand. My tributes might both make it away, for once!

As if I'd jinxed it, the girl from Two turns around right then. She spots Taffeta grabbing a beef jerky strip and smirks, aiming her crossbow at Taffeta's stomach. She shoots right as Taffeta straightens up, so that my tribute gets a glimpse of her killer. Taffeta's eyes glaze over and life leaves her body.

The sickest part is that after Two Girl killed Taffeta, One Girl gave her a high five. As if Taffeta's life was some sort of prize. Tears sting my eyes and I put an arm around Adeline, who's already openly weeping.

"We'll get through it together."

* * *

 _Bronco Lucas (District Ten Mentor)_

* * *

I pump my fist as Duroc runs away from the Bloodbath. Bri's already out of there, and she got a bag, too. Duroc getting away unscathed and with a weapon too is a huge advantage for him. Hopefully, he'll last a while. Bri, I don't have as high of hopes for, but she seems smarter than she let on. Maybe she'll surprise me.

Flutter shrinks in her seat as Taffeta from Eight gets a crossbow bolt to the stomach. I pat her halflheartedly on the back. This is always the hardest day for her, poor girl, and I can't blame her. She really does need to recover, though. She won almost ten years ago.

I make a mental note to sign Flutter up for a therapy session in the Capitol. Hopefully that'll help.

* * *

 _Beetee Latier (District Three Mentor)_

* * *

Well, this sucks. Nokia is gone. Solder is fighting the Twelve girl, and though he's winning, he's quickly losing steam. I can tell.

He suffers through another punch and blocks a hit from Beulah's knife with his own. Then, he opens his mouth and speaks, huffing and puffing.

"Stop, please, Beulah. I'm not going to kill you, and I can tell you don't want to kill me. Let's both just go. I won't chase you if you don't chase me."

Beulah looks at Solder for a moment, then turns and dashes off to the east. Solder wipes his brow, covers his bleeding arm with his non-dominant hand, and races off in the opposite direction from Beulah. I smile. He always was the kind of guy to keep his promises.

As he runs, he starts to cry. He must have seen Nokia die. Poor kid was her ally, and they were pretty darn close. Closer than most District partners.

Skype taps my shoulder. "Want a drink?"

I shake my head."Not the time, Skype."

"I have a fun drinking game. Every Career death, you take a shot. Every other death, you take a double shot."

"I told you, not the time. Nokia's dead, and Solder's not much better."

Skype shrugs and takes another two shots for the next death. "Suit yourself."

I roll my eyes and turn back to the screen.

* * *

 _Nemo Finns (District Four Mentor)_

* * *

Abby has a spear. Aqui has a pair of sai. They have their allies behind them. They're going to kick butt.

"Hey, Abby, see that kid over there? The Eleven girl?" Heron asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"Go get her."

Abby looks shocked. "Me? Why?"

"You haven't killed anyone yet, have you?"

"No, but-"

"Then go. Kill her or get killed yourself, whichever happens first. We don't care."

Abby looks helplessly at Aqui, who shrugs. She frowns at him, but grasps her spear tighter and runs after the girl from Eleven, who is still jsut standing on the sidelines and gaping at the beauty of the arena. That's right, she was the one who got her eyes fixed. She's probably never seen wildflowers or grass, let alone anything as beautiful as this arena.

That makes me wonder what the arena actually is. I look to the arena's display in the center console of the room. PRAIRIE, it reads.

Awesome. A plains arena, just what it seems. _Although they're not teling us something..._ I think, locating a small beach in one corner of the arena.

Abby, meanwhile, is catching up to Eleven Girl. She stops about twenty feet away and throws her spear into the girl's back. She falls to the side, hacking up blood. Abby closes her eyes and quickly retrieves her spear before heading back to her allies.

"Let's go now."

* * *

 _Dimma Fracier (District Five Mentor)_

* * *

Camilla and Solario have met up. Solario has tear tracks down his face. Camilla picks him up in a bear hug as Semolina runs up behind the two.

"Hey, guys. Let's get outta here. Anyone need a knife?" Semolina asks, holding up a small pocketknife.

Camilla raises her hand and Semolina extends the knife to her. She puts her District partner down again and grabs the knife. "Did we get any water?"

Solario rummages in his bag, which sits on the ground. "Here. It's full, that's weird. That never happens."

"It's good, though," Semolina says with a smile. "C'mon. Let's go." The three pick up their bags. Camilla picks Solario up and hoists him onto her back, then the girls begin to jog away.

I let out a breath. They're safe. Next to me, Static does the same. Every year since Harleigh Hammerson won the 40th Games, we've lost at least one tribute in the bloodbath. It looks like that streak is broken. I high five Static.

"Want to go get a drink?" he asks. "They'll be running for a while, I bet."

"No, I don't drink. Thanks. You know that, too."

Static shrugs. "Whatever." With that, he heads out to get a beer.

* * *

 _Breea Crawford (District Seven Mentor)_

* * *

It's seeming like I mentored pretty succesfully this year. Of course, Micah helped me a whole lot, especially with not getting angry at the tributes- there were times I wanted to- but overall, they're doing great.

Aino saw her ally die. I can tell because she has tear tracks on her face, is sniffling, and looks scared half to death. She, however, does have an axe, which is fantastic. Maybe she'll do better than we hoped.

Delancey still hasn't found Jack, but most everyone has left by now, save the Careers and a few others. That means Jack and Delancey either have a plan- God, I hope so- or they just haven't seen each other yet. If it's the latter, that will be remedied soon.

I'm mostly just proud of my tributes. Aino was a predicted bloodbath in the Capitol, and I was about to write her off as one too until I saw her spitfire nature. She's a feisty one, that kid. And we knew Delancey would get out fast and alive, so no surprise there.

I smile and grab a cookie from the plate. This will be good.

* * *

 _James Allred (District Two Mentor)_

* * *

Katie and Gabriel. So different, and they have different styles too. Katie, trained at home, and a Career. And Gabriel, trained at the Academy, and yet not a Career. He's one of their main targets, along with that Barric kid from Eleven who scored a nine in training.

Gabriel is actually in the middle of a fight now, on the opposite side of the loot pile from the Pack. He and the Six Boy, Jack, are scuffling, fist-fighting. Gabriel's losing, but he's spotted a sword nearby his left foot. Quickly, Gabriel extends an arm and picks up the sword, then thrusts it up into Jack's stomach. Jack immediately goes slack.

Gabriel pushes the gangly boy's body off his own, grabs the sword, and races out of the Bloodbath.

Katie smiles at a joke Heron tells about the boy from Nine's head. She has such a sick sense of humor, but then again, don't we all?

Then she notices something. She points off to the left of my screen, mumbling something to her allies about the boy from Eleven. They all pick up their weapons, looking in the direction of Katie's hands. Heron throws a knife and Peridot leads the chase.

They're going to kill him.

* * *

 _Seeder Derma (District Eleven Mentor)_

* * *

I put my head in my hands. No. This can't be happening. Tilly already died. Honestly, we were all expecting that. But Barric? Not so much. And now there's five trained Career tributes chasing him. I look up.

Barric notices the Careers racing toward him and grabs his sickle from the ground. He yells something at his ally, and the other boy runs off. How noble. He told his ally to run. Doesn't want him to die.

The Careers surround Barric. The girl from One wields a scary-looking dagger coated in a green substance. Poison. I wonder how she got that already. She makes a move to stab him, but then thinks again and motions for Aqui to go.

Barric holds out, and the two spar for a minute, but it doesn't last. Soon enough, Barric is in Aqui's grip and a sword is pressed up on his throat.

Katie laughs. "Sucks to be you, huh? Maybe you shouldn't have showed off in training. A nine? That's too high."

The rest of the group laughs, except the girl from Four. She just looks uncomfortable.

The girl from One nods at Aqui, who drags his sword across Barric's throat. He drops my tribute, who starts to cough up bloody mucus, and spits on him.

Barric's eyes dim. His life leaves his body, and with it, my hopes for a Victor fly away.

* * *

 _Harleigh Hammerson (District Six Mentor)_

* * *

I rage around the room, throwing jars and vases at walls. Not Jack. He was our hope for a Victor this year! He was going to go home to his girlfriend and unborn child. Now, honestly, we as aa District have no hope.

Kiara. Though she got out of the bloodbath alive, unlike _some people_ , she won't win. She's too young, too inexperienced. I look at the screen labeled (D6F). Sure enough, she holds a crossbow and bolts, but sits on a rock, trying to figure out how they work. I hit my forehead with the butt of my palm. _Awesome._

Lucky kid that Jack had some decent sponsors. I press a button, calling the Gamemakers.

"Hello? Yes, I'd like to send Kiara Geofferey, the District Six Female, a knife."

* * *

 _Jessamyn Xanders (District Twelve Mentor)_

* * *

Well, this is a first. Both my tributes made it out alive. And they're not even allied. Sure, Beulah has some injures. And sure, I'm certain that Ethan is on the Gamemakers' radar for rebellion. But they're alive! This hasn't happened since... ever, I think.

Beulah sits on a rock and sorts through her bag, while miles away, Ethan and his ally run down a path through a patch of dandelions. That's when the cannons go off.

BOOM. Nokia. BOOM. Demetrius. BOOM. Taffeta. BOOM. Tilly. BOOM. Jack. BOOM. Barric.

Six. Beulah smiles. I feel bad for her- she obviously will be in for a surprise tonight when the Gamemakers show the faces of the Dead. Her ally is dead, and she doesn't know it.

But hey, at least she isn't dead. That's a plus. And neither is Ethan. Another plus.

This will be a good year, I can tell.

* * *

 **YOU GUYS. I FEEL SO BAD.**

 **I have no idea what to say except... sorry? I hope this was remotely decent. If you can't tell, I don't usually proofread- I'll run it through spellcheck and skim it for major errors, but yeah, usually it's hot off the press. So this is probably terrible. But I hope you liked getting another peek at the Mentors.**

 **So you all are on the right track for the Arena. It is a prairie, and TranscendentElvenRanger, you're actually spot on with the Wizard of Oz thing. There's an easter egg in the last chapter, and if anyone can spot it you get infinite brownie points.**

 **However, there's one thing you're all missing. It's a major thing, and I'll give you a hint: another person in the SYOT community is doing almost the exact same arena. (Don't worry, they're not copying me xD) See if you can figure it out. Another hint: the title.**

 **Questions:**

 _Who was the death you least expected?_

 _Who was the death you most expected?_

 _Is there anyone still alive you thought would die?_

 _Who gets the best/worst death award?_

 **Anyway, I guess let's go to the Eulogies. (I'm stealing an idea from another SYOT called Elements cause I thought it was cool. Credit goes to the author.)**

* * *

 **24th Place: Nokia Skypewalker, District Three Female** **: killed by Peridot Jones, D1F**

 **Nokia was a crowd favorite, and she was one of my favorites too. I loved her. There was just something so lovable about her. Unfortunately, she was a submitted bloodbath, and her submitter left FFN soon after the Reapings. I just felt like there wasn't much I could do with her anymore. RIP Nokia, and thank you so much to RedRoses1000 for submitting a bloodbath. You made my life easier.**

 **Family Fact: Jakob, Nokia's dad, broke up with his fiancee Jenna, who was abusive and mean to Nokia. He remarried a woman called Techa and the two had one son who they named Noah after Nokia. She was never forgotten.**

* * *

 **23rd Place: Demetrius Osborne, District Nine Male: killed by Heron Filigree, D1M  
Demetrius. I loved him, but I'm sure that's partly because I had his form, and therefore I knew a bit more before all you. He was quite forgettable, even though he was a great character, and I wish I could have written more for him. If you're still reading, flowersnowgirl, thank you so much for Demetrius. He was great. And thank you for submitting him as a bloodbath. He won't be forgotten, like you wanted. **

**Family Fact: After Demetrius' death, Tierra, his mother, was lost. She committed suicide three months after the Games, leaving Carina, Demetrius' 18-year-old sister, to grieve alone in the world. After a while, though, Carina took it upon herself to start a charity for the orphans of Nine, like herself. She never married but adopted three sons.**

* * *

 **22nd Place: Taffeta Carmen, District Eight Female: killed by Katie Willburn, D2F  
Taffeta was one of my favorites. She was so relatable for me. We're really similar, being anxious, self-loathing, and young females. And that** **'s why killing her hurt so bad, even though I knew it would happen when I saw that she was a submitted bloodbath. I would have kept her longer if I could have found a way. Taffeta was amazing. If you see this, starrymidnight16, thank you for Taffeta. I loved her.**

 **Family Fact: Kale, Taffeta's twin brother, had to take on double jobs after his sister's death. Taffeta's parents were devestated and started to support their son more, regretting not being there for Taffeta and Kale when they needed it. The family was still poor, but was much happier.**

* * *

 **21st Place: Tilly Husk, District Eleven Female: killed by Abby Rhineheart, D4F  
TILLY OMG. She was so fun to write, honestly. I love diversity representation, being diagnosed with Apsergers myself, and Tilly was amazing for that. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to make it far whether I fixed her sight or not. It would have worked out better if this year's Arena wasn't breathtakingly beautiful... RageHer0, if you're still reading, I'm sorry I killed her earlier than you may have wanted. She was amazing, and I won't forget her.**

 **Family Fact: Lucy Husk, Tilly's mother, never recovered from her only daughter's death. She became practically a robot, working day in and day out to support herself in Eleven's fields. Lucy was the last of the Husk line and died at age 64 in her home.**

* * *

 **20th Place: Jack McArthy, District Six Male: killed by Gabriel Alderyne, D2M  
Jack was widely hated, but honestly, I liked him a lot. He was fun to write, and I wish I could have showed more of his fatherly side. He was a great tribute. I wish I could have kept him longer (I originally had some fun plans for him to stick around longer, but this advanced the plot better). I hope that this is okay with you, chocolate chip homicide, if you see this. I'm so sorry.**

 **Family Fact: Jack's parents and his girlfriend's parents gave his girlfriend, Alyssa, money to buy a small home. Alyssa gave birth to a healthy baby girl four days after Jack's death and named her Molly, like Jack wanted, even though Alyssa hated the name.**

* * *

 **19th Place: Barric Kerner, District Six Male: killed by Aqui Schmidt, D4M  
** **Barric, again, was kind of a placeholder tribute, which sucks because he was awesome. There was a whole bunch of stuff I wish I could have shown you about him but unfortunately that did not happen due to the layout of the chapters. I knew he had to go in the bloodbath the second I gave him a nine in training. That's just a "target me" score, and I knew I wanted one of those. Thank you starrymidnight16 for Barric. I hope you liked how I wrote him.**

 **Family Fact: Barric's grandfather died shortly after Barric did, and his grandmother followed her husband quickly. Azalea, his sister, took over responsibility of his other sisters, Wren and Brianna. Brianna never once snuck out again after her brother's death, keeping her promise from the Justice Building**

* * *

 **I guess I'll see you all next time. Thank you so much for your characters.**


	28. Chapter 28: Day One, Part 2

_Semolina Citrus (District Nine Female, age 14)_

* * *

My throat and lungs are on fire. We've been running for so long, likely at least an hour by now. Camilla had to set Solario down about fifteen minutes ago, and he's had a hard time keeping up.

 _Pat. Pat. Pat._ Our feet thump on the dirt path and kick up dust behind us, which worries me. If someone saw the dust, they wouldn't have a hard time getting to us. Thankfully, I do see something up ahead. Maybe that means we'll stop soon.

We run for about another minute, leftover traces of adrenaline being the only thing keeping us going, until I can make out what the former speck on the horizon was. A village, or at least it looks like a village.

"Hey guys," I pant. "Wanna stop? I think I see a village or something."

Camilla nods and we slow to a walk. I pull my bag off my back and pull out a water bottle, swig, and offer the bottle to Camilla and Solario. I point out the small huts to them and they nod. We head in the direction of the huts, walking slowly to allow our breathing to return to normal, and the village grows larger still.

We eventually find ourselves on the dirt path we were running on earlier, but now instead of dandelions surrounding us, there is a corn field on our left and a grassy meadow on our right. The village looks to be in the center of the grassy meadow, about a half mile away from the path and only accessible through the meadow. We have to cross the meadow.

No one speaks. We've all figured out what we have to do. We survey our surroundings once we think we're as close as we'll get to the village on the path, and before anyone can object, I push through the first couple stalks of grass.

The grass is really tall. I look at my allies, struggling to pass through the overgrowth, and notice that it's almost as tall as Camilla.

I shake my head. "This grass seems a little over the top, or is that just me?"

Solario scoffs. "Quite literally over the top," he says, pointing to the grass extending nearly a foot over his head. He's struggling to seperate enough grass to push his small body through.

I reach to the back of my bag and pull the scythe I got at the bloodbath from its holder. "Here. I think we're far enough away that no one will be able to tell if I cut this grass, don't you?"

No one answers, so I shrug and begin to cut down the tall stacks of grass. It feels familiar, like the jobs I worked to support my family before being caught stealing and sent to prison for life. Cut, push, cut, push. It's strangely nostalgic, in a way. This was my whole life once upon a time.

Solario and Camilla have stopped struggling to get through the grass, but it's obvious they don't like not being able to help. I remedy that by tossing each of them a small water bottle.

"Keep your stamina up, please. Just don't drink it all." Before they can protest, I add, "And don't feel useless. Honestly, right now the best thing you two can do is stay hidden and prepare for a fight if one happens."

We continue on for a while, hot sun beating down on us. I have to wipe the sweat off my forehead nearly every other scythe swipe now. It's like a miracle when I stumble halfway through cutting down some of the tallest grass yet.

"Semolina!" Solario yelps. Camilla claps a hand over his mouth as I regain my balance. Carefully, I step forward, and my shoes immediately fill with something cold and wet.

"You guys! I found a river!" I whisper-yell, careful not to fall over. The others gasp and rush to my side.

Camilla laughs. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see a cold stream."

Solario nods his agreement. I smile and move aside while the other two fill the bottles I'd given them earlier, then open Camilla's bag and rummage for more bottles and iodine. We find one empty bottle and a small container of iodine. Solario dips the water bottle into the calm river, then adds two drops of the purifying liquid. We set our packs down.

Camilla and I sit on the river bank, talking, until all of a sudden Camilla disappears into the river mid-sentence. I whip around quickly to see Solario standing behind her spot with an impish grin. I look forward again to make sure it's not too deep- it isn't- then stand and grab Solario by the torso.

He laughs and struggles gently in my arms as I wade into the stream. I stand him upright, then begin to splash him. He shrieks with laughter and disappears under the water.

I giggle. Seems to me we all need a break. _After all,_ I think as Camilla splashes me, _don't we all need some fun in our lives once in a while, especially at times like this?_

* * *

 _Heron Filigree (District One Male, age 18)_

* * *

I've always hated being thirsty. It never really happened back in One, seeing as the Academy always provided water and my family's quite rich, but now, the thirst is consuming me. It hasn't even been a day, either. it makes me wonder how we'll fare by days two and three if we don't find water soon.

We have plenty of bottles, obviously. The Cornucopia is ours, and so are all the supplies contained in the huge containers that we've used to store our stuff. Weapons, empty bottles, food, survival gear. Anything you could ever want- except water.

I think the way the Gamemakers did it was putting a small, half-full water bottle in every bag. Unfortunately, almost all the bags were gone by the time the bloodbath died down. There were two left. And of course, little old Katie and Aqui got the only water bottles- and drank them. Selfish brats. I had the urge to kill them both right then. Lucky for them, I didn't.

But now, we have no water. So we have to pack up and leave. I don't know how much longer we can go water-less. I do remember a class on survival at the Academy, though, and I think that humans can live for three dayys without water before dying of dehydration.

I stand up from my spot on an overturned plastic container and walk to where my allies are, laughing and joking about the deaths in the bloodbath. Of course.

"Grab your stuff. We're leaving," I say, holding up my hand to stop their jabbering. "And don't protest. Do you want water? If not, be my guest to stay here and die."

Abby looks at me funny, but follows my instructions. Stupid girl. She still won't respect me as leader, even though I scored the highest in training and therefore won the position.

After everyone's ready to go, we head out through a huge field of dandelions. Surrounded by yellow flowers on all sides, I lead our pack. Abby and Katie smile and whisper in the back, and Peridot walks just in front of them with Aqui. They don't seem to be taking.

We come to our first fork in the path after about a half hour. "Which way?" I turn to my District Partner and ask.

She points to the left, looking a bit surprised that I asked her opinion. I smile at her and turn to the left.

Peridot and I are close, not nearly as close as Abby and Katie, but still close. We trained together and saw each other nearly every day. Though I was her tormentor for years, I think she needs to get to trust me more. Not so that she can get to know me and we can be friends or anything, but more so that I can get to know how she works.

Peridot's always been strange. As a younger girl, she hated everyone, including herself. She was really quiet, and she was really, really, skinny, I recall. I never knew why.

Once we got to be about 14, Peridot changed. She gained weight. She started to speak out more, and she began to gain skill in the weapons she hadn't posessed before. By last year, she'd started to gain the princessy attitude she has now. And I never knew much about her. Until two years ago, she wasn't even in contention for next year's Games. But here she is now.

I want to figure out why she's here. I want to get to know her and her secrets and use them against her. And though I know she's strategic herself, I know that if she gets to trust me, she won't kill me. She's not that kind of girl.

We walk on and on and on, for hours, it seems. Honestly, it probably has been hours by the time we come to the second fork. We take another left and keep walking.

It's getting dark when we get out of the huge dandelion field. The grass surrounding our path is taller than even me and Aqui, and I'm well over six foot. We keep walking, mouths dry and morale low. If only we had water.

And then we do.

I walk straight into sticky, gross mud. It sticks to my shoes as I lift up my legs and stomp into a stream. I smile, wade out a tiny bit further, and fill up my bottle. I smirk at the group as they fill their own.

"You're welcome. I led you to water."

* * *

 _Beulah Sairel (District Twelve Female, age 17)_

* * *

No cannons have sounded yet, except for the ones after the Bloodbath. Six children are dead. Was one of them my ally, Demetrius from Nine? I haven't seen him since this morning, when we were on the same hovercraft, and I'm beginning to worry.

I've been walking for hours. I split off from the main path from the Cornucopia a while ago, and ever since, I've been pushing through the tall grass towards who knows what. My throat is dry as heck, which doesn't help. I just feel pretty crappy overall.

Now, it's started to get dark. I don't know anything about this arena's nights, and that scares me. Will it be cold, or just brisk? Do the Gamemakers have some nightly event or something to keep us on our toes? Or is it just normal- or as normal as you can get in the Hunger Games?

In any event, I'm tired of walking. So I stop, wipe my forehead of sweat, take a drink and set to work making a shelter of sorts. I start by ripping grass from the roots, in an irregular circle of sorts big enough for me to stand in with arms outstretched.

After that, I sit down and begin to braid the grasses into stalks. I braid three clumps of grass together and set it aside, then repeat the braiding until I have about thirty or forty braided grass stalks. It's a time-consuming and boring process, and every once in a while I have to stand and look to make sure no one has found me.

I begin to weave the grasses together into a crude mat. This is really difficult, not because I can't weave- I went to the knots station, I'm not dumb- but because the grasses aren't nearly as easy to work with as the thin, pliable wood strips the Training Center provided.

My work pays off, though, because by the time the moon reaches its peak, I've fashioned a mat to sleep on and a blanket to sleep under. I settle into my grassy bed, using my backpack as a pillow, and pull on a pair of gloves I'd found in the bag.

I fall asleep semi-quickly- not nearly as quickly as I did back home, but much faster than I would have imagined in a death game. I sleep for as long as I can.

I dream of something strange. I'm in a huge maze, and I have that strange sensation that I'm being followed. I run through the maze, making random turns, until I eventually come to a dead end. I gulp and reach for the pocket I'd placed my pocketknife in, but my knife is gone.

A huge shadow looms over me. I scream for help, but none comes as the shadow grows closer, closer, closer-

 _Oh Horn of Plenty.  
_ _One Horn of Plenty for us all!  
_ _And when you raise the cry  
_ _The brave shall heed the call  
_ _And we shall never falter._

I gasp for breath as the anthem plays. My chest feels tight and I grasp at my shirt, trying to rid myself of the sensation. It goes away just as the first face lights up the sky. I breathe shakily.

It's the girl from Three. Pity. She was too young to die. She was just thirteen, a child, really. I shake my head.

The next face is Jack from Six. I gasp. He was one who I'd thought would last at least to the top twelve. He really had the motiavtion, after all- I heard his girlfriend's pregnant with Jack's baby girl.

After Jack is Taffeta from Eight. She smiles down at us with an innocent expression. I shiver, but not because of the cold. This game is sick.

The next face nearly knocks the wind out of me. It's my ally Demetrius. He looks smug in the picture, broken nose and all, as if he were to leap out of the sky and chide me for not saving him.

I feel a wet teardrop on my pant leg and look down. It's really sick. Demetrius was a good kid. He didn't deserve this. He was smart and sweet and above all, he was only fifteen. He was too young for this.

We're all too young for this.

I miss the next face, but I don't care. Demetrius consumes all my thoughts at this point. When I look up again, the smiling face of Tilly Husk lights up my shelter. She was the blind girl. They fixed her sight, but honestly, either way she had close to zero chance, especially in this beautiful arena.

Tilly is the last face in the sky tonight. I wrap my arms around myself and start to cry, laying down on my mat once again. I cry myself to sleep.

This time, no dreams come.

* * *

 **Well, that last POV was hard to write. No deaths today, though. Your beautiful characters can stick around a bit longer ;)**

 **I don't think I've given enough clues yet so instead of making the Arena a secret I will post it on my profile under the HTWB section at the very bottom. Check it out! I'm really excited for you all to see it.**

 **If anyone has an open SYOT let me know, and I'll check it out. I'm really bored lately and want to make characters. I'm halfway through a D4F so hmu if that's an open slot especially. (TranscendentElvenRanger, I'm working on one for you :D)**

 **Anyway, I think that's all. I'm not going to give any questions today. Just, you know, come up with something to say on your own? Y'all are creative. xD**

 **Also someone asked for a kill/alliance list so here:**

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Katie, Aqui, Abby** **  
** **Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice: Semolina, Solario, Camilla** **  
** **Down with the Capitol: Ethan, Sonny** **  
** **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Bri, Kiara, Solder, Duroc, Delancey, Aino, Beulah  
Dead and Gone: Nokia, Jack, Taffeta, Demetrius, Barric, Tilly**

 **See you next time!**


	29. Chapter 29: Day Two, Part 1

_Solario Thunders (District Five Male, age 12)_

* * *

We made it to the village late last night. Camilla and Semolina spent the whole night out looking throught all the houses for loot- they didn't find any- so now they're laying on the floor of our hut, trying to get some shut-eye. It is a bit too bright to sleep, though.

I sit pressed against the wall of the house, knees tucked up against my chest. There, I think. I think about home, how much I miss mom and dad and my friends, and even my bedroom. I think about how much I've changed. I used to be such a boisterous boy, loud and playful and tricky. Now, I'm a different me. I'm quieter and my perpetual smile has died.

I'd guess it's around nine in the morning when we hear voices outside. I wake Camilla up and she taps Semolina awake with a finger to her lips. Semolina protectively scoots in front of me. She and Camilla grip their weapons, and I follow suit, wrapping my fist around the dagger in my backpack pocket.

"Hey!" yells a voice from outside as its owner peeks through the window, right at us. "Ethan! There's tributes in here!"

I close my eyes as Camilla stands up. Semolina grabs my hand and hoists me onto her back as the tributes from outside barge into the hut. It's the boys from Eight and Twelve, Sonny and Ethan.

They both look pretty well decked out. The boy from Twelve carries a pair of small knives and wears a backpack stuffed with supplies. His ally wields a slingshot and carries a knapsack, also pretty full. If we were able to take them out, it would be really good for us.

But death, the alternative, is almost too much to bear.

Camilla and Semolina must be thinking the same things I am. They shoot each other a look and ready their weapons.

At first, no one moves. The boy from Eight- who looks a lot like me, to be completely honest, with his fluffy red hair and pale skin and shortness- glances at me and then his ally. I read their thoughts. They obviously don't want to kill us because I'm here.

I adjust the dagger in my sweaty hand and hop off Semolina's back. My feet land on the floor of the house, and as if it were a cue, Ethan and Sonny launch into battle.

Semolina and Camilla follow suit. I shrink back a little bit as Camilla takes on the boy from Eight. He doesn't have a melee weapon- at least I don't think he does- and Camilla seems to be beating him easily. Semolina, on the other side of me, is having a bit of a tough time with Ethan. Seeing as her sickle is a ot longer than his knife, she isn't able to go in for stabs and instead only swipes from far away. It's good becuase she won't get hurt, but it is bad becuase she could fight him all day and won't hurt him.

Camilla shrieks as the boy from Eight drags a sharp rock across her arm. It draws blood, and she falls back a little. I rush to fight alongside her. Up close especially, Sonny really does look like me. I'm a bit shorter, and my eyes are a slightly different color, but otherwise, we're really similar.

I have little to no experience fighting with the knife, so I take a few painful hits from Sonny's fist before I get a stab in. It takes him a minute to register the pain, but whn it does register, his eyes widen and he turns, dashing out the door.

"Leave him! I say to Camilla over the clash of Semolina's sickle and the boy's knife. "Not a threat. This one's more important right now." I point at Ethan, fighting Semolina kid's been abandoned and now he's three times outnumbered. I'd feel bad if he wasn't trying to kill me. I start to rush over to Semolina for backup, but Camilla isn't listening to me. She's lomg gone, chasing after the other boy.

It's a tough battle, I can tell. Semolina has scratches all over her, and a small stab wound in her side. I run up to her and start to swing madly.

And then I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen. It's not a knife wound, but somehting much more serious. And it hurts. Oh, God, it hurts. I fall to the ground, blood drippng down me, and watch as my ally pulls her sickle out of me.

I feel nothing but pain as Semolina's hands fly to her mouth and she drops her sickle. It clashes to the ground. The boy from Twelve takes this opportunity to leave. He dashes away.

"Why?" I choke out, tears streaming down my face. I will never see District Five again. I will never play another prank or see my mother laugh.

Semolina shakes her head, falling to her knees. "I- I thought you were the other one!" Tears fall from her cheeks onto my face.

She thought I was Sonny. It makes sense, but the truth hurts. I close my eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Solario. I'm so sorry."

"Kill the others." I say with the last of my energy.

 _I forgive you._

BOOM.

* * *

 _Camilla Hendricks (District Five Female, age 14)_

* * *

The cannon boom almost makes me drop my weapon. _I have to get to them._ The boy from Eight is far enough away that it's not really worth chasing him, so instead of following the clouds of dust his shoes kick up, I one-eighty towards the house we'd set up in.

I'm about halfway through the village when I see him- the boy from Twelve, injured and grimacing, but alive.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot!" I whisper. Unless the cannon was some other tribute in another part of the arena, one of my allies is dead. I sprint faster, lungs heaving and calves on fire, until I reach our house.

I enter and the first thing I see is Semolina hunched over a body with a bloody sickle in her hand. I cover my mouth as the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

She killed Solario.

I grab my knife and tip toe behind Semolina. There's only one thing I can do, and though it pains me to do it, I have to.

I have to kill her. I have to avenge Solario. I can't let her get away with this.

I raise my knife over Semolina's back, ready to thrust the knife into her body. I breathe in as quietly as possible, close my eyes, and plunge the knife into the girl I once called my friend.

She falls forward onto my District Partner's body, and I reach out with shaking hands to flip her onto her backside.

"You kill my friends, I kill you," I say in a voice stronger than I expected. Blood leaks from underneath the body and stains Solario's clothes.

Semolina closes her eyes. I lean back, almost pleased- that makes me sick, seeing myself embrace death- but then her eyes spring back open. Her mouth opens with them.

"I made a mistake," she whispers, and then her eyes go dull.

BOOM.

I shake my head. Damn right, she made a mistake! She underestimated me, she killed my friend- my almost-brother!- she let the others get away unscathed. That's three fricking mistakes right there.

It's funny how easy it was to kill her. It's like my rational self flew out the window of this small hut, leaving me alone. Normally, I would have asked her what was going on before I jumped to conclusions. I would have trusted her. I would have given her a second chance.

But I didn't, and now my only friends are dead. I am all alone.

I pick up Solario's knife and his bacpack from the ground. Tears prick my eyes as I roll Semolina's body off his. By the time I've moved her completely off him, I'm sobbing. He was like my younger brother. I tried to pretect him.

I failed.

I shake my head to clear it of my swirling thoughts, then just let out all my bottled-up emotion.I don't even care if someone finds me. They can kill me if they want. Honestly, I probably deserve it. I scream, I shout, I sob. I pick up my knife and plunge it into Semolina's chest time and time again, each time with more distaste than the last. I hug Solario's body and apologize to it.

I am a mess when I'm finished. The bodies are starting to smell, so with reluctance I leave them. I stuff as much of the crap from Semolina's and Solario's bags into my own as I can, then put the leftovers in Solario's and sling it over my other shoulder.

I leave Semolina's sickle and bag in the house with the bodies. I want nothing to do with that girl. I trusted her. After a bit of deliberation, I dump the water bottle from her bag out, too. Who knows? It might be poisoned. There's a river nearby anyway, and I've got like five other bottles. What's one more?

As soon as I'm packed up, I run as far away from the scene as I can. I take our path through the field, and don't even stop when I come to the river, wading through it.

I walk for an hour or so before finding the dirt path once more, and turning onto it. I'm never going back to that village.

* * *

 _Kiara Geoffrey (District Six Female, age 14)_

* * *

Two cannons have gone off since I woke up this morning, and neither of them were mine. Honestly, that much is enough for me to be proud about. I'm not dead yet, and I have a knife and food and a crossbow that I can't use at all.

I got the knife yesterday afternoon, right as the cannons boomed after the bloodbath. I think my mentor, Harleigh, was trying to tell me that Jack was killed. Why else would she have sent me a knife? I don't deserve it in the first place. Not to mention the note.

It is a really strange note. When I recieved it, I was honestly not quite sure what it was trying to say. The note was written on pink parchment, and it reads:

"It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress. But the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not troubled by the scent of the flowers."

When I got it, I had to reread it twice. I was really confused. By now, I've figured out that the flowers (which ones, though?) will put me to sleep (or kill me) and I should stay away from them. But there's still not really enough for me to figure out which flowers my mentor means, so I've just been steering clear of all the flowers.

I'm currently in the middle of a grassy plain, which is annoying because the grass is taller than me by at least six inches. I can't really move it all that well, seeing as I have nothing to cut it down with, so I have to push through with just my hands.

That is the worst part. If I had a sickle or scythe, this would be a heck of a lot easier. I could just cut down all this grass. But no, the only sickle I saw was taken by the Nine girl at the bloodbath. So instead of cutting a clear path through the grass, I just have to push it away.

As a side effect of that, my hands are bleeding. The cuts are like paper cuts- they sting for a minute or so, bleed a little, then just bug you for three days afterwards. They were the bane of my existence back home with my books. I'm seriously considering using up some of my precious athletic tape to wrap my hands in instead of saving it for injuries and bandages.

The nice thing is that no one will see me in this grass. It's so thick and there's so much of it that even an onlooker from the dirt path won't be able to notice out of the ordinary rustling. Therefore, I'm quite well hidden.

I walk for a few hours in the blazing sun, not really thinking, but more so going into autopilot. Push, step. Push, step. I only come out of my "trance" once, when I almost step into a river. That's when I decide to stop.

I sit on the bank of the river and set my bag on the ground. Honestly, I haven't gone through it that much. I know I have tape and a bit of water- I drank quite a bit last night- but that's about the extent of what I know.

I open the bag, which is a large red camping bag. It has to weigh at least twenty pounds when I put all my crap in it.

Speaking of all my crap, I start to pull it all out of the bag. It's like a birthday all over again, but ten times better (and ten times more sadistic, sadly).

I pull out my roll of tape first, and then out comes my half-full water bottle, with a weird contraption on the top. My crossbow is next, followed by its bolts, and after that I find an extra pair of socks and some flint and steel.

That could be really nice, actually. If I could find a safe place to stay, I could start a giant fire and knock out ten or so tributes.

Next out is a packet of dry oatmeal, a small cookpot, and last, two apples. The apples are already bruised and bad, so I take the oppurtunity and eat one of them. It fills me pretty well, and I'm not thirsty afterward, so I consider it a success.

I will need a consistent food source soon, though, and that's what worries me. I have one apple and a pack of oatmeal. The oatmeal probably won't even work out terribly well, since I need boiling water if I want it to be warm or even remotely clean. This river water won't cut it.

Either way, the river is going to be my water source for now. I down the rest of my water and fill up the bottle, hoping that the contraption on top is a filter.

It is, which makes me smile. Now all I need is food.

* * *

 **Well, here's the second day part one. More action-filled than last chapter, which is nice, but I'm so sad to say goodbye to two more tributes. Rest in peace, you two.**

 **Today's AN will be pretty short, so I guess questions now?**

 _Any guesses what the flowers are now? ;) They are the red and purple ones mentioned in the bloodbath chapter._

 _Are you surprised that Semolina and Solario died in the way they did?_

 _Are you furious for how I killed them?_

 **I'll go do obituaries now.**

* * *

 **18th Place: Solario Thunders, District Five Male: killed by Semolina Citrus, D9F**

 **Red, I loved Solario. LOVED him. He was one of my favorites, actually. It really pains me to kill him so early. However, his death will develop Camilla a LOT so hopefully that works out? He was acutally originally a bloodbath, but I put his death off a day since you're such a loyal reader and he's such a great character. May he RIP. I hope next time around you'll have better luck.**

 **Family Fact: Diana, Solario's sister, took up magic after his death. As she grew, so did her magic skills, and she was eventually known as the best magician in Five. Every show was dedicated to Solario.**

* * *

 **17th Place: Semolina Citrus, District Nine Female: killed by Camilla Hendricks, D5F**

 **Rose. Oh my god, Semolina was so fun. She really was. I love having sassy tributes like her becuase they're so fun to develop into parental, kind characters. I tried to do that with Semolina, but I dunno how well it worked xD She won't be forgotten. May she RIP.**

 **Family Fact: Lianna, Gretta, and Myles Citrus spent five years after Semolina's death in the prison, mourning alone. When they were reunited, they grew closer than ever and eventually grew to the point that they didn't have to steal anymore.**

* * *

 **Wow, I just reaized how many loners we have xD**

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Katie, Aqui, Abby** **  
** **Down with the Capitol: Ethan, Sonny** **  
** **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Bri, Kiara, Solder, Duroc, Delancey, Aino, Beulah, Camilla  
** **Dead and Gone: Nokia, Solario, Jack, Taffeta, Demetrius, Semolina, Barric, Tilly**

 **Have a great day!**


	30. Chapter 30: Day Two, Part 2

_Abalone "Abby" Rhineheart (District Four Female, age 17)_

* * *

There have been two cannons today, and neither of them were my kills. I'm feeling the pressure from my group to find and kill Gabriel. Or anyone, really. The unfortunate thing is that I have one kill, which is exactly the same amount as all my allies, and they're still pressuring me, out of anyone, to kill more people. I don't know how to feel about that.

Honestly, though, it kind of makes sense. What kind of Career trusts a Reaped girl from Four with seemingly no experience with any kind of death? Not a sensible one, that's for sure. They don't know about Archer or even my spear training with Kelp. It isn't unreasonable for them to be on edge around me.

But that doesn't really help me feel any better. Since the Games started, I've probably spoken ten words at the most. That's really uncharacteristic of me, seeing as normally I'm quite bossy and outgoing. I think it's just the nature of killing a girl barely younger than me, one that I knew, one that had no chance to fight back. It's getting to me for sure.

Thankfully, yesterday Heron found a river, and we've got basically an endless supply of water at this point. Now our only problem is food.

Just thinking of food makes my stomach rumble. I look around at my allies, draped over rocks near the river edge or clustered in the tall grass, and then it comes to me.

Fishing.

I stand up to grab string from my bag, and am stopped by Heron.

"Woah, what's going on here?"

"We should fish for food!" I say in a voice louder than my normal speaking voice but just under a shout.

Peridot sits up on her rock, looking mildly interested. Katie scoffs from her rock, but doesn't sit up as she speaks. "And what stick will you use?"

She has a point, but I have an answer. "We have at least two spears with us, right? Let's take the head off of one of them. I've got string. And if a rod won't work out, there's always knife fishing."

Aqui smiles. "She's got a point. I'm actually a half decent fisherman, myself," He puffs out his chest. Peridot stares daggers at Aqui- she seems to hate me and all my ideas- but says nothing.

Heron smirks. "I think knife fishing isn't a half bad idea. Who's got a knife? We'll put Aqui on fish duty, since he thinks he's so great." Aqui protests, but Heron takes a knife from the side pocket of his bag and pushes it into his hands. "Go, and don't come back until you have a fish for us. Preferably two or even three."

Aqui sulks away as the rest of us giggle. I sit back down in a cross-legged position, stuffing the string into the bag once again. Heron isn't done, though, and he points to me.

"You should build a fire to cook thouse fishies on. Get it going, okay? Thanks for the idea, too. Thanks to you, we're eating tonight."

I smile, but inwardly groan. Why do I have to make a fire? Can he not make either of the two girls sitting on rocks next to him do it? Or heaven forbid, do it himself? It seems to me the Careers just don't trust me, or my District in general.

I get up from my spot slowly, then begin to gather fist-sized rocks from the ground and in the lake. I arrange them in a circle, in the center of the area we'd cleared of grass. Then, I rummage through the nearest backpack for a flint and steel, which of course we have, because we have literally everything that was at the Cornucopia that we could carry.

Up next is kindling, and I actually can't seem to find any. The grass is all wet, and there aren't any trees at all, so twigs and lichen are out of the question. Good thing I know what to do in this situation.

Hair.

I grab a knife from the stack of weapons. It pains me a little to think that I'm cutting off a peice of me that took near to seventeen years to grow, but it's for the greater good, so I take a deep breath and rake the knife through a my red hair. It comes of quick and smooth, easier than I'd expected.

I place the fistful of hair into the circle, then pick the flint and steel back up. I make a spark, then blow on it.

It occurs to me right about then that we might need something to burn. I smack my head. Why am I so stupid?

Opening a bag, I start to look through its contents. There's a knife, a roll of athletic tape, a bandage, and a notebook with a pen. That'll work. I toss the notebook and the backpack it came from onto the small flame. Hopefully it'll keep going for a while, or long enough to cook our food.

* * *

 _Sonny Smaragdine (District Eight Male, age 14)_

* * *

It's getting to be late afternoon, and there's smoke in the sky. I point it out to Ethan, and he reckons that's probably the Careers.

"No one else would be stupid enough to light a fire! That smoke is a beacon. It'd tell the Careers exactly where to go to find them."

I shake my head. "What I want to know is what they're burning. There's no wood, so they had to be pretty inventive, huh?"

Ethan nods and we trek on through the grass. It's the tallest grass I've ever seen, but then again, I've only really seen dying brown grass. This beautiful arena of rolling green hills and flowers is really strange. Though I gardened back home, there's something surreal about seeing miles of red flowers stretch out in front of you, something that can't possibly be replicated with a simple window box of tulips.

We walk on for hours, days, it seems- though I know it's likely been two hours at most. Sweat soaks my shirt and sticks it to my body. Hunger nips at my stomach, too. I've eaten exactly three crackers, one apple and a strip of beef jerky since the Games started almost two days ago, and to say I'm hungry is an understatement.

It seems that there's no sources of food, as well. I know there's got to be something edible in the arena, or else we'd all starve to death, but what?

Then, it occurs to me.

"Ethan, what do you think they're cooking over there?"

He shrugs. "Water? Boiling it? Or cooking food."

"Yes. And they're by a river, correct?"

"Heck, how am I supposed to know?" He squints at the sky. "Looks like it."

"And what comes from a river and is edible?"

The realization lights up his face. "Fish!"

I nod, beaming. "Got a knife?"

I've never been fishing, let alone knife fishing, but really, how hard could it be? And there's no other option. Hopefully seafood isn't so bad. But first things first, we've got to get back to the river. Foolishly, we'd left it an hour back.

So we turn around and walk back, thanking whatever God lives above that we'd cut down the grasses. It had slowed us down substantially, but oh, it was worth it.

When we reach the river, Ethan hands me the knife. I lean over the river water and wait for a flash of silver.

I sit crouched over the stream for about five minutes before I have to adjust my position. I stand up, lay belly down on the ground, and push myself up closer to the river. My arms dangle near the water.

A fish flits by and I try to stab it, but miss by a lot and just end up plunging my arm into the water. I groan.

This has got to happen twenty times before I finally get a fish. It wiggles and flails on the end of the knife for a bit, then finally goes still.

"I got one!" I shout to Ethan, and he comes running.

"I'll gut it," he says with a smile. "You rest."

I take the oppurtunity. I sit on the ground near the firepit Ethan's built and watch him gut the fish.

"So my question now is, what are we going to do about cooking this guy?" I point to the fire. "I see you built a great firepit, but won't the Careers see it and come running?"

Ethan shrugs. "We just gotta hope. We should roast it as fast as possible, then put out the fire and get out of here. We won't cut down grass on our escape, either."

I smile. "'Kay. I'm gonna go try to catch one more!"

I lean over the water, and almost catch a fish. The next silver flash is easy to spot, and I see it really fast. I extend my arm, plunge down, and-

And I fall into the river.

As soon as I do, I start to panic. I don't know how to swim! At first, the current is slow, but as I flail in the water, it speeds up. Effing Gamemakers! They sure do know how to kill a kid.

Ethan appears at the side of the river as my head bobs under again. I try to scream for help, but instead I just take in gross river water. Hacking it up as soon as my head bobs up again, I try to signal to Ethan.

 _Go! I can't be helped. GO!_

He finally gets it and dashes away with a remorseful look on his face. I close my eyes and stop fighting the river.

Who woulda thunk? I guess it's karma for the Reaping and the poppies. Or something.

BOOM.

* * *

 _Solder Carvahall (District Three Male, age 17)_

* * *

BOOM.

The cannon sounds, and with it, another life ends. I wonder who that one was. Nokia's death really shook me up. I cried almost all of yesterday. However, I know she wouldn't have wanted me to sulk. She would want me to win, for her. So that's what I'm going to do. I'll avenge Nokia by killing Peridot and I will bring it home, for her and for me.

I roll over on to my side- I'd been watching the clouds- and stand up.

At the moment, I'm standing in a field of grass. It's shorter here than the rest of the arena, probably only two or three feet instead of the usual six to eight. That's nice because it means I don't have to push the grass away with my hands, and it gives my cuts time to heal. Nearby, there's a dirt path leading to who knows where, and across the path is a tilled field. I kind of think there's food in the field, and I've been planning to check for a while.

So tonight's the night. I survey my surroundings, grab my backpack and sword, and head off through the short grass. It's getting dark, but honestly, that's good. I don't want to be seen. I haven't seen anyone yet today. Yesterday I saw one person- the girl from Seven, I think- and I immediately had to sit down. She looked too much like Nokia.

I trek across the grass to the edge of the field, then look left and right and dash across the narrow road. I reach the tilled field and stop for a minute, looking ahead at the farm. It's starting to smell like onions, as well.

That's good. While I hate onions, myself, it means there's food in this field. And honestly, that's all I'm really here for. Food. I haven't eaten anything since I binge-ate all my food yesterday morning, stupidly. It wasn't much of a binge-eat, though, since there was only one sleeve of salty crackers.

The field has little green sprigs coming up from the ground, so I pull one up. It's an onion, just like I'd guessed. It looks like ahead there's something else, too- carrots or potatoes, maybe. That's good- maybe I'll make a stew or something.

And then I hear footsteps behind me. I whirl around and instinctively draw my sword, looking towards the person. He wields an axe, has short brown hair and is quite attractive, if I'm telling the truth. He shakes his head, however.

"I don't want to fight!"

I lower my sword a bit. The boy approaches me and when he reaches me, he drops his axe on the ground. I reluctantly do the same with my sword.

"Delancey. District Seven," says the boy.

I open my mouth to reply. "Sol-"

"I know you. You're Solder Carvahall. Three, right?"

I nod.

"Well, Three, I know your partner was your only ally. I still don't know why in the world you allied with her- I mean, she was practically a rock weighing you down- but my ally died too. Jack. District Six."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I want to ally with you, Solder! I think together we could bring down the majority of the tributes in this Arena. And I could use one of these." Delancey taps his head. "Mine's not so great. I mean, it isn't bad, though. You're just smarter."

I sigh. "Okay." I stick out my hand and Delancey shakes it, then pulls me into a man-hug. I roll my eyes, but smile. An ally. A friend.

"So. What did you get at the Bloodbath?" I ask.

Delancey shrugs off a backpack, then picks up his axe. "This baby- and whatever's in here. I think there's a compass and some fruit. Have at it."

"I got this sword, and my bag. I had some crackers, but I ate them. And athletic tape, a pair of night-vision goggles, and an empty water bottle with a filter. It's not empty anymore, though.

Delancey gapes at me. "You got a filter bottle? Jesus. I've heard of those. They're apparently really hard to get."

I shrug and grab his backpack. In it there's a compass, a notebook and pencil, a pair of socks, a full water bottle, and a mirror. I look in the mirror, and am really surprised.

I look awful. My eyes are red and bloodshot, my face is streaked with dirt and blood, and my hair is disheveled and greasy. I put the mirror back.

I guess that's what the Games do to you.

* * *

 **Day two, part two! I just realized I didn't include the nightly broadcast, but Sonny was the only death. Since Ethan didn't have a POV, that should be ok? No one else would have been that affected...**

 **Well. The tributes have a sort-of food source now! Yay for potatoes, fish and onions!**

 **I'm really sorry this chapter took so long- I've been traveling a lot for gymnastics, and school's ramping up. I have to find a high school for next year too... so I've been busy. Not to mention writer's block.**

 **But we're here now. Question time!**

 _How do you feel about the Boys Next Door (Delaney and Solder) Alliance?  
_

 _Were you expecting Sonny to die?  
_

 _What is your favorite non-THG book?_

 **And eulogies.**

* * *

 **16th Place: Sonny Smaragdine, District Eight Male: drowned in a Gamemaker trap**

 **Hey, Evelyn. So I really liked Sonny. The rebellious tributes are really fun to write, and you gave him some quirks that made him so human. Thanks again for the idea for the poppies. I'm sorry I had to kill Sonny so early, but really, a fourteen-year-old who was already marked as a rebel isn't going to last too long. May he rest in peace.**

 **Family Fact: Angela, Sonny's crush/girlfriend, was devastated when Sonny died, but along with the rest of the gardening club, she created a memorial for each tribute who was killed in the Games from Eight.**

* * *

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Katie, Aqui, Abby  
Boys Next Door: Delancey, Solder  
** **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Bri, Kiara, Duroc,Aino, Beulah, Camilla, Ethan  
** **Dead and Gone: Nokia, Solario, Jack, Taffeta, Sonny, Demetrius, Semolina, Barric, Tilly**

 **Have a great day!**


	31. Chapter 31: Day Three, Part 1

_Duroc Merino (District Ten Male, age 17)_

* * *

I fiddle with my small knife, twirling it in my hands over and over. It's become a compulsive habit of mine, sadly. After Barric died, I started to do small things I know I shouldn't- twirl my knife in my hands, bite my nails, tug at my ears. It's got to be a side effect of watching someone I know die.

It's early morning. The sun has barely risen over the grassy, rolling hills of the prairie. I slept for only about five hours last night- I've been very nervous to fall asleep since the games started. Without Barric, there's no one to watch me or my camp when I sleep, and if I were to die, who would watch over Criollo and Houdan after my parents broke down? That's something that would definitely happen. I have to make it home, not for me, not for my job, but for my family.

As I slept so little, I'm obviously exhausted. Lately I have been. My muscles are fatigued and my legs and arms are sore, my head is hurting perpetually, and my mouth is so dry I almost can't stand it. I have run into exactly one water source since the Bloodbath: a river. And then, I had no purification tablets or even iodine, so foolishly, I left. And, go figure, the next day a sponsor sent me a bottle of iodine. By then, though, there was no way I would be able to trace my steps. I hadn't been cutting down the grass, just trampling it and pushing it aside, so there wasn't a clear path.

So, I have one water bottle, and it's nearly empty. My urine is a strange color close to a brown, alerting me that I am, in fact, dehydrated. Awesome.

Normally, I'd make some kind of joke here (what happens when you get a bladder problem? Urine trouble!) but honestly even that aspect of my personality is starting to die down. I doubt I've made a single joke in the last day or two. That's unheard of for me, a guy voted Class Clown every year since the eighth grade.

At any rate, I have to find water, and soon. I know there's that river, but that's the only water source I've seen any sign of, which means it's the one I'm going to go look for. No point in looking for something that isn't there. So I stand up from the spot I'd made in the soft grass, swing my small green backpack over my arm, and take off.

Several hours later, my water is empty and the only thing I've accomplished is the appearance of hundreds of little cuts on my hands and arms. My feet hurt and arms sting. My head pounds like heck and the dull pain resounds through my whole fatuiged body.

I stop walking. Is this how I'll die? Alone, in a fake, controlled field, dressed in synthetic fabrics that weren't touched at all by humans through all of the time it took to make them? I hope not. That's not how I imagined death, especially not my own. I imagined going down in battle, the clash of steel blades on each other, blood flying through the air and splattering my cheek as I fell with a crunch to the ground. Not this.

I fall to my knees. I read in a book somewhere that humans can live with no water for three days in ideal climate. This certainly isn't ideal, and God, now that I think about it, it's the third day, isn't it? What does that mean?

Or, in another sense, what _doesn't_ that mean? It means I'm dying. It's hard for me to think about.

As I lay on the ground, eyes flitting back and forth between open and closed, my body exhausted, I hear a distant _ping, ping._ It's far-off, and as I lay there it gets slowly louder and clearer. With all the strength I have, I lift up my head and look around.

And my savior shows its face. A water bottle, floating from the sky in a silver parachute, presumably full. I sigh and rest my head back down. Oh my gosh.

The water bottle plinks down onto my stomach. The obnoxious beeping continues, growing more and more high pitched until finally I pick it up. I unscrew the bottle and pour half the water down my throat in one gulp.

It's cold, clear and so damn refreshing. I sit up and smile. I bring my arm to my forehead in a salute and snap it sharply away, hoping the cameras are able to see me.

 _Thank you. Oh, God, thank you_.

* * *

 _Kathryn "Katie" Willburn (District Two Female, age 15)_

* * *

Shit's going down in the Career Pack. I heard a parachute! Heron, Aqui and Peridot don't seem to believe me, which makes it three versus one. Abby hasn't spoken up- typical of her. I doubt she's said three hundred words since the Games started.

Peridot shakes her head and opens her mouth to speak. Before she can, I butt in-

"Give me a chance, guys. I know I heard the parachute! I know I saw it, too- and it's not far away!"

Heron rolls his eyes. "Riiight. Sure you did, darling."

My eyes widen in exasperation. "I did!"

"I say give her a chance," Abby pipes up. That was unexpected! All our heads swivel towards her. "What? Katie's not a bad fighter and not a bad thinker either. Worst comes to worst, she's wrong, we come back here and nothing happens."

Heron rolls his eyes again- he seems to enjoy doing that. "Fiiine. We'll go check it out. And if Katie's correct, she can have the kill."

"She's wrong, but okay," Aqui mumbles. I shoot him a death glare and grab my crossbow, nose turned up.

Everyone else follows suit, picking up their weapons and falling into step behind me. I lead the group towards the general area the parachute fell- across the river and through some grass, but less than half a mile. And lo and behold, within a few minutes of reaching the vicinity, we stumble right into the boy from Ten.

"Oh, well looky here! Who's this? Derek?" I know full well his name- Duroc- but in all honesty I'm just trying to piss him off. Duroc whips around with a water bottle in his hand, smile quickly fading.

"Duroc, thanks!" he snaps, hand moving to his knife.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What a shame that no one cares, Derek! No one! Where's your ally now? The one who scored, what was it, a nine?" Duroc bristles at this. I keep going. "Well, well. Sucks to be him, killed in the bloodbath of all places by us, the Careers, of all people! And honestly, seems that it won't be much better for you."

I turn to Heron, who holds a machete. "May I do the honors?"

Heron raises his eyebrows, but hands me the machete, which I swing back and forth as I walk up to Duroc. I lean over him, straddling his muscled body and holding up the machete over his chest. "Last words, buddy?"

Duroc scowls. I wait for a few suspenseful seconds, then plunge the machete into his chest. Immediately, the cannon sounds.

BOOM.

I laugh. "Sucks to be him, huh?" No immediate reply comes from my allies, but Aqui scowls at me when I look at him. "Woah, mister," I drawl. "I was right this time. Turns out you can't always be right, huh?"

Aqui inhales sharply but says nothing. I shake my head and kneel down, going through the bag Duroc had left on the ground. Inside, I find a small bottle of iodine, an empty water bottle, a strip of beef, a compass, and two pairs of socks.

Literally almost nothing helpful, besides that compass. It could be a good thing to know for sure which cardinal direction we're traveling in. However, we already have basically infinite food and water, and why would you even want socks? I toss the green bag on the ground, pocket the compass and pull the machete out of Duroc.

"Let's clear out," says Heron. I nod. Passing him the machete, I survey our surroundings once more. Nothing of use. We fall back into our walking order- Heron in front, with Aqui and Peridot behind him, me behind the two of them and Abby trailing.

It's nearly noon, judging by the sun, by the time we make it back to camp. Nothing's been displaced, though, which is good. I sit on a rock and place my head in my hands. Honestly, I don't trust my allies. Aqui seems sketchy, and Peridot and Heron just seem too well-trained to want me, a fifteen-year-old home trainee, around. Abby is just lame. We don't talk about her.

At any rate, silence overtakes us once more. Everyone goes about their business- Aqui sharpening swords, Abby facing away from us and doing who-knows-what, Heron eating, and Peridot fiddling with some random tube.

That's why it's surprising when I feel a sharp pain in my back. I scream, whip around, and stare into the face of none other than Aqui Schmidt.

"I'm sorry, guess you can't always be the winner, huh?" he sneers. "I don't like being wrong."

The other Careers gather around, laughing. Had they been plotting this? Mother-effing dogs. They don't know what they're missing out on!

BOOM.

* * *

 _Sabrina "Bri" Cress (District Ten Female, age 13)_

* * *

Not going into the bloodbath was a great idea, if I'm being honest. It's Day Three, and I'm doing half-decent. I've got a bag with a little bit of food, a shelter of sorts, a staff with a knife bound to the end (I guess you could call it a spear), and easy access to water. Life's good here in the Hunger Games, or at least as good as it gets.

My small shelter is simple, but serves its purpose well. It's hidden in the grass. I'd pulled up some grass in a small circle-ish shape, then gathered the surrounding grass and woven it together at the top. I added a bit of extra protection to the "walls" by weaving some extra grass into the walls horizontally. It's nice because it's not visible unless you're looking straight down on it, and it keeps me at least sort of safe.

There've been two cannons today. I wonder who they were. In the back of my head, I want at least one of them to be a Career, but then my morals kick in and I regret ever thinking that. It's strange to think that so many children I know will never be seen again. Death is a scary concept to me, and I don't want it for anyone, not even Kathryn and Aqui and Peridot and Heron and Abby.

At any rate, the days are long and boring but safe. I think I've moved from my spot exactly three times, and all three were to get water. In between those short trips to the river, I've been doing a lot of sleeping and thinking.

I actually don't think I've slept through an entire night here in the Arena. I'm a light sleeper, and every noise startles me. Every time I try to sleep, I get about an hour in and then I wake up to an owl or rustling wind in the grass or even a cannon. That's the worst thing to wake up to. It means another child will never see their family, their home, their friends again. It signifies the death of someone with a full life, one as developed and special and unique as mine.

And that's scary to me.

I roll over in my shelter. My water's almost empty, and I should really refill it. I pick up the bottle and a purification tablet from my bag, then crawl out of the shelter and through the small tunnel I made from grass. It leads through the plain to the river, where I lay on my stomach to refill my bottle. The water is crisp, clear and refreshing, and I debate going for a swim, but think better of it. What would I wear? And what if someone saw me? It's just not a good idea.

So I retreat back into my shelter and curl up again, thinking about Mommy and Daddy and my friends and Jean and Kid. I think about home. And I think about Camellia, the sister I had for about three hours.

I fidget with the flower in my hair. It's a camellia, and though it's dry and faded, it's still beautiful to me. Funny how that works, how something with personal meaning to you always looks nice, when to others it'd be trash.

In all honesty, I have mixed feelings about whether I want to survive these Games. On the one hand, I don't think I could bear not being able to see Mommy and Daddy and Jean and Kid, but on the other, I would finally meet Camellia.

Camellia was Kid's twin sister, which means that Camellia's four now. She was born in the night, the first of the twins, and Kid followed soon after. We all were so excited to have another sister, me especially, as I was only three when Jean was born. I'd always wanted a little sister to play with.

We realized not long after Camellia's birth that she wouldn't last long. She was small and frail, her cries were weak, and she rattled with coughs that she couldn't get out. We braced ourselves for the death, and sure enough, less than three hours after that, Camellia passed away. During all this, no one named her. I think Mommy thought assigning a name would make the death harder.

I was given the responsibility of coming up with a name for her tombstone. Camellia was what I picked, and since then, my little sister has always been Camellia to me.

Groggily, I place the flower behind my ear. My sleeplessness has caught up to me. I lay my head down on the ground and curl my legs up to my chest. Sleep comes quickly, and I let it take me away.

I dream of my sister.

* * *

 **And I'm back again! Thank you to Caleb for reminding me to sit down and write. Youdabest.**

 **Things are heating up! We're three days into the Games, and as you can see, there are rivalries! I'm really excited for the next few days, though- I have some fun stuff planned. (Fun for me and you. NOT fun for the Tributes :))**

 **Questions!  
**

 _Who, out of everyone we've seen so far (and others, if you want), do you think will be the next death?_

 _Who do you think will be the Victor/last the longest?_

 _Have you seen any fun movies lately?_

 **All right, death recap time.**

* * *

 **15th Place: Duroc Merino, District Ten Male: Killed by Katie Willburn, D2F**

 **Duroc was a great tribute. I really liked slipping puns into his POV's! It hurts me to kill him off, and I hope you, VeneratedArt, can forgive me. I'm sorry, but I felt that I couldn't do much more with him, and I needed someone to trigger Aqui's anger. Thank you, VeneratedArt, for giving me that character. May he rest in peace.**

 **Family Fact: After Duroc passed, his parents were essentially dead as well. Houdan, Duroc's brother, became the legal guardian of Criollo, his sister, at age 16 and the two lived a tough life without parents.**

* * *

 **14th Place: Kathryn "Katie" Willburn, District Two Female: Killed by Aqui Schmidt, D4M**

 **Katie was a great character, but in all honesty, she was in the wrong story. As you can see from her Reaping chapter, I honestly couldn't get a good grasp of her. Though she was awesome, and would have done much better in another story, mine just wasn't the place for her. I'm sorry, Ozimira. May she rest in peace.**

 **Family Fact: Slate Willburn disowned his daughter after her death. The District hated him, and lost all respect for him- they believed that someone else would have done much better if Katie hadn't volunteered.**

* * *

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Aqui, Abby  
Boys Next Door: Delancey, Solder  
** **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Bri, Kiara, Aino, Beulah, Camilla, Ethan  
** **Dead and Gone: Katie, Nokia, Solario, Jack, Taffeta, Sonny, Demetrius, Semolina, Duroc, Barric, Tilly**

 **Have a great day!**


	32. Chapter 32: Day Three, Part 2

_Ethan Valentine (District 12 Male, age 14)_

* * *

The arena's been really quiet since Sonny died. I've been alone since then, and because Sonny had our bag on him when he drowned, all I have now is a knife, a half-drunk bottle of water, and a sleeve of crackers. I'm doing fine on food, since I ate that whole fish after Sonny drowned. My water bottle is the real problem- I have no idea how to purify water without boiling it. And a fire- ugh, that's an awful idea. Plus, what would I even boil it in? I have no cookpot.

At any rate, I've been traveling in the general direction of the Cornucopia. I figure the Careers are smart enough to leave, seeing as the river's a good five miles from the large horn, and so I've been hoping there are supplies there left over from the Bloodbath.

It's been two and a half days since the Games started, and a full day since Sonny's death, so I figure that since I turned around and started going back to the horn immediately after his death, I am about half a day from new supplies. Thankfully, I've rationed the food well. I have more than enough to get me to tomorrow afternoon.

I hum an old song from Twelve as I walk, and think about Iago and Oleander. I miss them, and I wonder what they're doing. Oleander's probably in school at the moment, actually- it can't be past one pm, and he goes to school until three unless Iago needs help with something earlier on. And Iago... he's either watching the broadcast of the Games or searching for someone to replace me.

It's not that I don't think Iago has faith in me (to be quite honest, though, that is what I believe). It's more that if I were to die, no one would be left behind to help Iago with his black market pawn shop. I haven't gotten to the point of inviting Oleander to help me work yet, so he doesn't know the ropes. And if Iago, a seventy-something old man with no family besides us orphans, doesn't find someone to help with his business in case of something bad, the business won't last long.

As much as I hate to say it, Iago honestly won't last that much longer. At this point, he's one of the oldest citizens in the District, at seventy-three. People usually don't last much past fifty in District Twelve, much less seventy. And if Peacekeepers find out anything about his black market deals, the guy's basically instantly dead. Since the market does not benefit the Peacekeepers, Iago would be simply a criminal to them, a bug to be squashed.

My thoughts wander further and further away from me as I walk. Sweat trickles down my forehead and plods onto the dirt path below me, leaving a trail. I can only hope the hot sun will help the sweat drops dry into the ground quickly so no one will notice them.

After a few hours of walking, all I can think of is how much I hate the Capitol and Games. After all, if my brother Jean had never been Reaped into the Games, then perhaps I'd still have my mother and brother. My father would likely still be dead, however, through no fault of his own. Mine explosions really cannot be avoided.

I've come more to terms with my father's death than that of my brother and mother. My father's death was a pure accident. He couldn't have been saved, even if the canary watcher had paid attention, even if the mine elevator had worked. He was simply too far down.

However, my brother was murdered in cold blood. At the ripe age of fourteen, Jean Valentine was decapitated in the Final Eight feast in the 38th Hunger Games while his young brother watched. I never really recovered from that, seeing the blade of the Four girl's sword slice through my brother's neck.

It seemed for a long while that my family would recover form Jean's death. However, then the mine accident happened, and my mother wasted away soon after. I had gone from having a full, loving famiy to being an orphan on the streets within a year.

Iago was my savior, my light in the tunnel, and Oleander was an added bonus. I smile just thinking about him, his bright smile and curious nature, his funny disposition and intelligence.

At this point, I wouldn't care if I died. I'm not afraid of death or what it'll feel like. I'm more afraid of leaving my adoptive brother with no one to look up to. And that's what keeps me from just walking into the river and letting it sweep me away like it did to my ally.

I can't leave Oleander alone.

* * *

 _Aino Tamminen (District Seven Female, age 12)_

* * *

I'm really surprised that I'm not dead yet. I mean, how long do kids my age usually last? Not long this time around, considering there's only one other tribute under the age of fourteen left, besides myself. Yes, I've been counting.

My District Partner's still alive, too. That kind of scares me, since I don't think Delancey really likes me. He'd made it clear early on that he believed I had no chance at winning, and that he thought I'd die early on. How wrong he was!

I haven't seen anyone in days. On the first day, I think, I saw the boy from Eight and his ally, the kid from Twelve, but since then, I've been alone on my trek. Also, the boy from Eight appeared in the sky last night (at least I think it was last night. The days run together).

At any rate, I'm doing well. I have quite a few sponsors in the Capitol due to my young age and skill with an axe that doesn't really exist, though the Capitol loves it. That means that I have all the water and food I could need, my weapon of choice (an axe) and a sleeping bag. I roll onto my side from where I'd been, on my back in the field, staring at the sky. My long brown hair catches underneath me.

I roll my eyes and pull out my axe. Honestly, I'd never considered cutting my hair- I've always loved the length, and taken pride in the color and texture of it. Of course I'd trim the hair occasionally, but I don't think I've had a haircut since I was in about the second grade. However, I wasn't in the Hunger Games when I was in second grade. And here, extra hair is a burden. It's heavy, hot and inconvenient. And, since I took my hair out of the standard bun that all female tributes' stylists used on their girls this year, it could be a danger if I started being chased. Especially since I braided it. It's like a rope that my chaser could use to grab me and pull me in.

My axe in hand, I take a breath and grab my hair with the other hand. I'm nervous, but not sure why- haircuts seem to me like a silly thing to be nervous about- and I mentally beat myself. If I can't handle killing my own already-dead hair, how will I manage to kill other children?

I crop my hair short, to the chin, and wish desperately for a mirror. The long brown strands of hair in my hands are heavy, thick and oily. I have little use for them- hair is a good fire-starter, but anyone with a brain knows not to start a fire, and the hair isn't quite long enough to make a useful rope. Therefore, I tie the hair into a thick rope with grass and pull the elastics off of it. I toss it into the river I sit by, watch it float downstream, and tear up.

It's tough on me to watch myself change so much. I started this month as twelve-year-old Aino, who lived in Seven and who had long hair and early curfews, who was always fed and never angry. Now, I am thirteen-year-old Aino who wields an axe, brandishes a seven on her back, and is constantly checking over her shoulder for children who will try to kill her.

I imagine it'll only get harder. I have to kill to get out of this arena alive, and that'll be the biggest change I've ever experienced- a bigger change than even discovering my real age.

I crawl through the grass, back to my spot, as the sun starts to descend below the horizon. I wrap myself in my sleeping bag and put my head on my backpack, using it for a pillow. I lay there for hours, thinking, not of anything in particular, but rather running through memories of happier times. I think of the time that I met Marjatta and Milla, the time Milla made me wet myself laughing, of Marjatta and I in the fields and forests of Seven. Odd how none of my favorite memories include my parents, I think. However, that makes a twisted sort of sense- they were almost never around me, and when they were, I realize now I hated it.

I drift off to sleep under stars, certainly computer-generated but still beautiful, and don't wake until late at night when the anthem plays.

* * *

 _Peridot Jones (District One Female, age 17)_

* * *

 _Oh Horn of Plenty_  
 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!_  
 _And when you raise the cry_  
 _The brave shall heed the call_  
 _And we shall never falter_  
 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!_

I'd been asleep, but when the anthem plays, I wake. I roll over and look up at the sky with a smile on my face. I don't particularly enjoy the deaths, but I do enjoy hearing the anthem, since I consider myself to be rather patriotic.

The first face in the sky is Katie. I don't really know how to feel about seeing this girl, my former ally (and one could even call her a friend), in the stars. It means I'll never see her again. It means her family wil never see her agian, that her friends will weep and her enemies will feel a rush of happiness when they hear of her death, then feel guilty for it. It means never again will she open her eyes in the morning to the bright sounds of chirping birds, she'll never wield another sword or see another drop of blood from a child who died at her hand.

For that, I am grateful. Since the Games have started, I've begun to realize the morbidity of my situation. I mean, twenty-three of us will never go home. We are children, nothing more than that. I've also begun to regret volunteering. I thought that the Games would be fun, a good experience, even easy to win. However, upon meeting ruthless Aqui and strategic Gabriel and even the annoying but useful Four girl Abby, I began to see how deathly wrong I was. And it's scary to think that I probably won't make it home alive.

The second face in the sky is Duroc from Ten. I didn't really know the kid, but I still have trouble thinking that I had a hand in his death. I feel responsible.

As the sky fades back to black, I roll onto my side again. I pull the small tube from my pocket- my token- and begin to fiddle with it. I don't think I'll be getting to sleep anytime soon, so I might as well entertain myself. The others think that this tube is a simple fiddle toy. How wrong they are.

This tube is a segment of the tube that fed me when my thirteen-year-old, 85-pound self laid on a hospital bed, dying of malnutrition, still thinking that I was too fat, that I needed to get this tube out of my body. I remember the times that I lifted my arm to pull out the feeding tube but didn't have the physical strength to do it. I remember cursing myself, thinking of all the calories I was taking in through this very tube that I hold in my hands right now.

I obviously got a lot better. At fifteen, I was no longer underweight, but my self-confidence was still really low. It took years for me to build myself back up to where I was before the Games. However, lately I've plummeted. I'm sure having little food to eat in the first place didn't help, but I am feeling the symptoms of anorexia again. My self-confidence is lower than it's been in years, and I actually don't think I've eaten since yesterday morning. My motivation to do anything is gone.

I roll over and go back to sleep. I dream- I have a nightmare. I dream of my twelve-year-old self, gaunt and deathly skinny, but she morphs into the faces of all the little kids in the games. She fades from the Three girl to the Eight boy to the Five boy to the Nine girl, all of whom glare death glares at me. I sleep restlessly, waking every now and then but drifting back into the nightmare soon after. It's miserable.

Abby pokes my side when her shift is over. "Are you okay?" she whispers. "You seemed like you were having a bad dream. Is there anything I can do?"

I shake my head. "Get some sleep. We have another long day ahead of us."

Abby looks concerned, but doesn't argue, taking my place in the sleeping bag.

I sit up, grab my machete, and head over to the watch spot. I have to strategize. I kind of want to leave the Careers. Heron and Aqui have a mindset that scares me, and I am not ready to die if all of a sudden they turn on me. I have to kill them. However, lately I've taken a liking to the Four girl- or as much of one as I can have in the Hunger Games. I definitely don't want to kill her yet. She's definitely an asset.

I spend my shift thinking up plans to kill the two boys. I can't do the obvious and stab them when they sleep- the cannon for the first will wake the second before I get to him. My best bet is to poison them- slow-acting poison, a poison that takes a while to set in and a while to kill them.

I smirk. The boys won't even know what hit them.

* * *

 **Hey guys! I'm back, and oh my god I apologize for the unannounced hiatus. I think I'll be better at getting things out now that it's summer, but I said that last summer too, and look where we are now... XD  
**

 **Little bit of a filler chapter, amirite? Which is nice because I get to keep all your tributes around longer! TBH though I don't have much to say... it's 12:30 am here, so I should probably go to sleep but whatever.**

 **Questions!**

 _Do you think Peridot's plan will work out?_

 _What do you think of Aino cutting her hair?_

 _Do you prefer football or soccer? Do you even have a preference?_

 **See you next time!**


	33. Chapter 33: Day Four, Part 1

_Gabriel Alderyne (District Two Male, age 17)_

* * *

I'm awakened by the beeping of a sponsor package. It can't be later than eight-o-clock, and I am tired out. I didn't get to sleep until what I'm guessing was around three or four, thanks to my rumbling stomach and the rain. Yes, rain. God, I was kind of conflicted on that rain. On the one hand, my water bottles are now full and my thirst is quenched, but on the other, I got four hours of sleep and a runny nose.

I roll over onto my stomach and army crawl to the package. It's a small bottle of medicine of some sort. Once I get the beeping parachute to shut up, I greedily open the bottle. I raise it to my nose and smell. Immediately, my nose clears. The people back home must have noticed me sniffling.

I'm surprised they decided to send me anything, though. I was sure I'd be ridiculed back home for not joining the Careers. Then again, I am the District's last hope for a Victor. Katie's dead and gone, so it makes a sick sense that the District shoved the rest of their betting money onto me. They can't stand to see the Twos lose.

I down the bottle of medicine and immediately feel better, until I hear laughing and talking. I'm sure my eyes go wide as saucers as I lay back down in my sleeping bag and thank the heavens for camoflague.

I thank the heavens again that I didn't investigate when I hear the Careers' voices. They trample through the grass with literally no cares in the world, smiling and laughing, except the girls who hang back a bit. Peri's changed, I notice- at the start of the Games, she'd be right up there with her District partner, not the Four girl.

I burrow further into my sleeping bag as I remember the deal the Careers made with Abby- kill me within the first week, or die. Which means that if she sees me, I'm doomed. I have to stay hidden and quiet, and not move a muscle.

This proves difficult as the Careers walk past my shelter. It's tough for me not to jump up and throw my knives right into their backs. It wouldn't be hard to kill them once I weakened them with the knives, either, especially since Abby'd probably run away.

I let out a breath as they pass, but inhale sharply as Heron speaks. "Hey, I'ma piss my pants if I don't go to the bathroom soon."

"Thanks for that," Peri wrinkles her nose. "You don't need to give us the details. Just go."

Aqui laughs, and Abby smiles, but Heron doesn't. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't argue. Instead, he rolls the bag off his shoulder, hands it to Abby, and grabs his sword. He plods off into the grass- thankfully not in my direction.

It's a good two or three minutes before he returns, and when he does, he has a malicious grin on his face. "Girl from Ten. Follow me."

Aqui fist-bumps his ally and they take off, the girls more hesitantly than the boys. Peri's definitely had some sort of revelation about death. As if she can read my mind, Peridot's eyes swivel to where I am, huddled in my sleeping bag, holding a throwing knife in one hand and gripping my wrist with the other. I breathe in sharply, but all Peridot does is wink and turn away. The message is clear- I'll be back.

As soon as they're out of my sight, I scramble out of my bag and gather my supplies hastily. I stuff all my crap in a bag and take off in persuit of the Careers- I can kill them, plus I want to see the little kid, and maybe help her out.

It turns out I'm a little late. As I run through the grass, I hear a scream, undoubtedly that of the Ten girl. I run towards the sound and stop short when I see the scene.

The young child has cut a circle of grass out of the ground and is on all fours, spear in hand. It's a crude shelter, but it's housed her for the past three days, so it must be effective. Aqui and Heron chuckle as she whimpers. Peridot follows their lead, however, I can tell her amusement is forced and not genuine. Abby completely hangs back, arms crossed and steely-faced.

Heron raises his hand. "I want this one." And with that, he steps up to the girl, kicks her limbs out from under her, and lifts her chin up. "Any last words?"

Bri spits in his face. "I would tell you but my words are not worth giving to the ears of fools."

They all laugh, and Heron wipes the spit off with his arm. Then, all of a sudden, he stabs the little girl in the side. I take the opportunity to throw a knife right into the chaos, and it lands in Heron's left leg. Good. He won't be able to run.

I take off into the grass as the Careers follow me.

* * *

 _Aqui Schmidt (District Four Male, age 17)_

* * *

Heron falls to the ground as the Ten girl's cannon booms. As Heron staggers to his feet and pulls the knife from his leg with a harsh scream, we all take off in the direction the knife came from.

Heron takes the back, bent over and hobbling with one hand over his wound, I take the front, and Abby and Peridot run right behind me. I've noticed them getting closer, and I'm worried about it, but there's no time for suspicion now.

We chase our attacker for a good five minutes before they escape. We'd been chasing no one for a few minutes, just running aimlessly through the weeds. Go figure. I guess we can't get them all, especially when one of us is useless with his injury.

We walk back to the spot where the Ten girl's body laid- it wasn't there, since the hovercraft took it, but her supplies were there. A bag, carrots, a crude spear made with a stick and a knife, and a water bottle. Abby takes the knife, and we share the carrots among ourselves as Abby tends to Heron's leg.

Peridot speaks first. "Well, it's my day for lunch, yes? What do you all want?"

Abby perks up, but doesn't speak, tying a bandage around Heron's leg and handing him water and a pill. He swallows the pill, then says, "I'd like a stew, if you could."

I nod. "Sounds good to me. Carrots, meat, water, maybe some fish if we've got any?"

Peridot smiles. "Can do. I'll be back soon." Abby stands and joins Peridot, and the two take the carrots and a cookpot to gather water from the river.

I wait until the girls are out of earshot before I voice my concerns to Heron.

"Peridot's acting strange, don't you think?"

"I mean, she's always been a different girl. You know she was anorexic and depressed, right?"

I shake my head. "I had no idea." I want to feel bad for Peridot, but I can't bring myself to feel for her. Especially since I think she's trying to betray me.

"I think she's just relapsing. She had some problems after our Academy tests, you know, the ones where they bring you a criminal and you have to execute them? Well, she didn't have problems with the killing at first, but in the weeks after, she always got really quiet and mysterious. I think that's all."

"Well, you do know her better. I hope that's the case."

We fall silent once more. I pick up a knife and sharpen it on a stone while Heron feels bad for himself and his leg. I roll my eyes. The injury wasn't even that bad. It makes me wonder if the Ones' Academy has any kind of pain-endurance training. I doubt it.

But, God, depression and anorexia? That's some pretty heavy stuff. I wonder what pushed Peridot to go there. She always seemed so content with herself and her life. Peri's pretty, too. Not to be perverted, but she's gorgeous, and I would definitely try to get her, you know, if we weren't supposed to be killing each other. I've never experienced anything like that- having a great body image, I love myself and my life. It must suck, though, being depressed.

I lay down on the grass and try to sleep. Unfortunately, I don't trust even Heron with my life at this point, so I don't get any shut-eye. Instead, I kind of just relax on the ground. This whole ordeal has been more than I bargained for, honestly. I was really excited for the Games, and don't get me wrong, I still am, but it's definitely lost a bit of the appeal. I really need a shower, for one thing, and another, I miss actual food. Fish and fries, strawberries, oranges... I have a craving for anything from home.

I sit up. "Hey, can we get some strawberries up in here?" I ask, squinting at the sky. "I mean, fish is great and all, but fresh fruit? C'mon guys."

Heron laughs. "Yeah, that's not a half-bad idea."

And lo and behold, a few minutes after that, I hear the beeping of a sponsor package. The parachute floats down towards us and I reach out to grab it. Sure enough, the bowl is full to the brim with fresh, red strawberrries.

Heron and I feast on the strawberries, leaving none for the girls. When they can show they're loyal to us, then they can have treats. Until then, they're stuck with their soup.

* * *

 _Kiara Geoffrey (District Six Female, age 14)_

* * *

I'm doing dang well. A cannon has gone off today, and it was not me, which is great, and I've got food and water and a weapon that I like. I'm afraid, of course, but not nearly as afraid as I'd be without my knife.

I smile, picking up my bag and knife, and head off in the direction of the field I've been harvesting carrots from. With those and the jerky and bread I saved from the Cornucopia, I am in a good position. Not to mention, my eyesight must be getting better exponentially.

As I walk, I hear voices coming from the barn that stands in the center of the field. It's the alliance of the boys from Three and Seven, and though I know they're both great kids, nice and helpful and kind- and that Jack used to be in their alliance, before his death- I still don't want to risk anything. I skirt around the back of the barn with quiet steps and baited breath, hoping to whatever God resides above that they don't hear or see me. I really just want to avoid conflict.

Thankfully it works out, and neither Three nor Seven stops talking or walks outside. I head through the rows of carrots, putting the good ones into my bag and dropping the others, smashing them beneath my heel. It doesn't take long until my whole bag is full to the brim with carrots, stems, and dirt at the bottom.

I'm not nearly as successful on the return trip as I am on the way out. In fact, the boys hear me as I walk past their back window. As I scamper past the barn, I watch the boy from Seven reach out an arm to silence his friend. They stand cautiously, and I run as quickly as humanly possible away from the barn.

I get a scare when I realize that the boys are following me. For a second, I think they could be mistaking me for Seven's partner- we're about the same size, and probably look really similar from the back- but then realize that I'm painting them in too much of a good light. It's likely that they're following me, hanging back a bit to make me think they're tired, and letting me lead them to my camp.

I turn around as soon as I realize this. I can't run for much longer, so honestly, I might as well just stay and fight. I have at least a small chance, then, and the boys won't be able to find my camp without putting in a decent effort. I draw my knife.

Three puts his hands in the air as he slows to a jog, then a walk, and saunters toward me. Seven follows, but cautiously, with a hand on his hatchet. With a start, I realize that Three doesn't even have a weapon. Impulsively, I drop my knife.

"We're not going to kill you," says Three, hands still in the air. However, for how sure Three looks, Seven looks doubly as unsure. He drops his hand from his hatchet when I drop my knife, but still looks at me warily.

"Why?" I as. "You could easily make bank off killing me. Have you noticed what's in my bag? And I'm only fourteen, an easy elimination."

Three ignores my question. "Six, right? What's your name?"

"Kiara," I answer reluctantly. "Seriously, why aren't you-"

Three cuts me off. "Solder. This is Delancey. And to answer your question, I think I'd have to kill myself if I killled you. You're too similar to Nokia..." He trails off.

Delancey hands me a bag. "Solder wanted me to give this to you. I protested, but-" He cuts off as Solder steps on his foot.

"What Delancey means to say is that in the bag, there is painkiller, some bread, a bit of water and a compass. Figured no one would argue with a gift."

"Thank you... is there anything I can do to help you?" Astonished at the boys' kindness, I smile. It pays off to be little and look like the kid from Three.

"You just... take care of yourself. It's sick, all of it. Frigging sick." Solder shakes his head. "May the odds be ever in your favor." He offers me his hand, and I grasp and shake it. It's warm and dry. Reluctantly, Delancey does the same, and I shake his hand too.

As the boys saunter off, I smile. I guess there is some good in this world still.

* * *

 **Another chapter for you all! I am actually really enjoying writing this lately, so hopefully I'll get more chapters out quickly! I'm sad that I had to kill Bri, though, and poor Heron with his leg :(**

 **Shoutout to my new beta, goldie031, who will be helping with inconsistencies, plot holes, etc. along with grammar and typos! Hopefully, the quality of my writing will improve now that I have a beta! If you haven't signed up for the Fanfic Writers Mentor-Mentee Network, totally go do that. There's a tumblr at ff-writers-mentor-mentee-network. tumblr. com if you want to check it out!**

 **Questions:**

 _What do you think of the boys' decision to help Kiara?_

 _Did Bri's death surprise you?_

 _What's your current favorite song?_

 **And death recap:**

* * *

 **13th Place: Sabrina "Bri" Cress, District Ten Female: Killed by Heron Filligree, D1M**

 **TER, Bri was super fun. I loved everything about her, from her backstory to her caring personality to the fun angle she put on for the Capitol. I'm going to miss her, but honestly, how long do thirteen-year-olds last, especially those with no fighting experience? I loved her, though. May she RIP.**

 **Family Fact: Bri's friends and family mourned for their daughter/friend/sister for a good long while, however, life went on after a while, as it did with Camellia. Bri was never forgotten.**

* * *

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Aqui, Abby**  
 **Boys Next Door: Delancey, Solder**  
 **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Kiara, Aino, Beulah, Camilla, Ethan**  
 **Dead and Gone: Katie, Nokia, Solario, Jack, Taffeta, Sonny, Demetrius, Semolina, Duroc, Bri, Barric, Tilly**


	34. Chapter 34: Day Four, Part 2

**Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts and tendencies in Camilla's POV. Please don't read if you're sensitive to that. I can summarize for you. Do not compromise your mental health for any story, not just mine.**

* * *

 _Camilla Hendricks (District Five Female, age 14)_

* * *

Lately, I've been in a rough place. After watching Solario stabbed to death, and killing my ally Semolina, my thoughts have been chasing me around in circles, controlling me more than I control them.

 _You worthless being, you murderer, you scum. You killed her. You killed her. Your friend is dead because of you. You killed Semolina._

Every step I take through the grassy fields of the Arena echoes thoughts like that. Dark, depressing thoughts which make me question my will to stay alive. I try to push them out of my head with happy thoughts, of home and my friends and parents and sister, but they keep coming back.

 _Monster_.

Tears slide down my face as I walk, wetting my cheeks and falling to the ground where they plop and leave little round circles of darker dirt. I'm not used to these kinds of thoughts. Anxiety I'm used to- the compulsive worrying has become a part of my life- but not this stuff. I don't know exactly what to call it, either. PTSD? Depression? Whatever it is, it's killing me slowly and I don't know how to stop it.

Unless...

 _No_. I chide myself, shaking my head. I will not even consider suicide. I have to stay strong. I have to make it home. My friends would be devastated, and I can't have that.

Traipsing through the grass, pushing the tall stalks aside with my cut and bleeding hands, I can't help but wonder why this happened to me of all people. I know plenty of girls my age- there's got to be more than a thousand fourteen-year-old girls in Five, and that's just the fourteen-year-olds. Add in all the other ages who are eligible for the Games, and my chances of being picked, even with tesserae, had to have been one in thousands.

Yet here I am, a murderer at fourteen. And that's scary to me, to think of what I've become. I used to be so funny, so happy, so carefree, but now... my thoughts are right. I am a monster.

I stop walking and grab my knife from my backpack, wielding it in case I find another tribute. Honestly, at this point, I'd be okay with going out in a fight. I don't want my parents to have to deal with knowing that I killed myself. Not that being killed by someone else will be much better, but at least I won't have to feel like I took the coward's way out. I might even purposefully seek out a tribute, one I know I cannot beat, to let them kill me and take the responsibility of my death.

For now, though, I just walk on, tears still leaving a trail behind me. I don't even bother worrrying about others finding my trail. Let them. I deserve it.

 _Monster_.

The word echoes in my head with each step. _Monster, monster, monster_. Finally, after another few minutes of that, I give up walking. It's not getting me anywhere productive, and it's making me feel worse and worse with each step.

I sling the backpack off my shoulders, sitting down on the ground. I set down the knife next to me, where I can grab it easily if I need it, and curl up in a ball. It's too much effort to do anything else, so why bother?

I fall asleep after a while, and my dreams are haunted by the ghosts of my allies. They march around me in circles, yelling obscenities at me. "Monster! Monster! You murderer! You'll never be anything!" I try to sit up and fail. My mouth opens and closes again, forming words, but no sound comes out. All I can hear is the constant chant of "Monster, monster, monster."

I wake up in a cold sweat hours later. My shirt and pants are soaked in sweat, my hair plastered to my face. I can't imagine how awful I must look, but it's got to be bad.

I pick up my bag and knife. Now that I have sleep in my system, I feel a little bit better- not much, but enough to motivate me to keep walking.

So that's what I do. I sling the backpack over my shoulders again, and start to trek across the grass. I can smell flowers, but I don't know from where, so I figure I might as well try to find them. I walk for miles, finding nothing but more grass.

It doesn't take long for me to give up again. I sling my bag onto a rock and lay down, feeling a sense of deja vu, but I pass out almost as soon as I hit the ground.

* * *

 _Ethan Valentine (District Twelve Male, age 14)_

* * *

It's getting late. The haze of twilight has cast itself over the arena, and I'm getting tired, but I know there's no way I'll sleep if I try now. For one, it's too light, and for another, I am too scared.

I'll admit, I am scared. before, I tried to be brave, if not for my sake than for Oleander's sake, but it's really tough. I'm only fourteen, and it's really scary to be in this situation. I know I'm probably going to be dead in a week, and I think in a way, I've accepted it, but it's still really freaky to think that other kids will be the ones to kill me off.

After all, we are just kids. The oldest of us is eighteen, too young to be here, barely out of school and likely too young to work- at least in my District, we would be. There were a few twelve-year-olds, but now only one remains, and I think it's sick that they were ever forced to be here, to kill and die.

It's sick that any of us are here.

I'm lost in my thoughts about how inhumane and immoral all this is, when I hear a noise. Rustling. It's dark now, and I can't see much at all in the dim light of the computer-generated stars. I reach for my knife, take a quick sip of water to quench my thirst, and stop walking.

The rustling continues, starting to grow louder and louder, and louder still, until I finally see what is making the noise. The ground is covered in little green snakes, and it's tough to see them since they blend in to the grass. I yelp, then immediately slap my hand over my mouth. How am I supposed to deal with snakes? These aren't just any snakes, either, I'm sure. They look like harmless garden snakes, but this is the Hunger Games. Nothing in the Games is harmless.

I start to assess the situation. There are probably thirty snakes on the ground headed toward me rather quickly for snakes, at maybe the speed of a crawling child. They're little, maybe pencil-sized, and about the same width as a pencil as well. They are the exact color of the grass surrounding me, making them hard to see, but the movement makes it easier.

I instinctively slash with my knife at the snakes. One of them catches on my blade, and its head chops off. It writhes and goes still, but not before spurting out blue blood that coats my knife. I frown. This wouldn't be such a problem if there weren't so many snakes, dang it.

I crouch down and slash off the heads of as many snakes as I can, however, I don't take into account those snakes on the ground behind me. One slips up to me and I feel a sharp sting in my ankle, and immediately I drop my knife and fall to the ground in pain. All I can hope is that these snakes will leave me alone and not bite anymore, and that wish seems to come true. As if they are being called by their master, all twenty-odd snakes left slither away, leaving me writhing in pain and clutching my ankle.

I can't help but notice that one snake has grasped my knife in its mouth, and though I know I should grab it, I can't bring myself to lift my hand. I'm going to die here anyway. What's a knife when I'm dying?

I pass out from the venom not soon after. My dreams are full of nightmarish figures, Oleander and Iago and all the orphans back home, blaming me for their hunger and deaths. Corpses, dead bodies of children I once shared beds and food and a bathroom with. I scream, but nothing comes out, and the grotesque images grow worse still.

In my head, I beg for quiet. Death would be welcome here, but no, I have to suffer through hallucinations of everything I love being destroyed. It's hours, I'm sure, before I fall into a dark sleep deeper than anything I've felt before.

But It's revealed to only have been an hour or so when I wake from the sleep I'd fallen into. The moon is low, and the stars bright and thick in the velvet night. I try to stand up and immediately fall to the ground once more, having forgotten about the snakebite on my ankle. It's oozing pus and swollen, and definitely painful. I won't be able to move for a good long while, that's for sure.

But I'm alive. I made it through the hallucinations, and I'm okay. I won't be able to walk, but I'm okay. The venom doesn't seem to have spread- at least, nothing else hurts, so I count my blessings and lay on my back, foot elevate on my backpack. I let sleep drift me away on its soft fingers.

* * *

 _Beulah Sairel (District Twelve Female, age 17)_

* * *

 _Oh Horn of Plenty._  
 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!_  
 _And when you raise the cry_  
 _The brave shall heed the call_  
 _And we shall never falter._  
 _One Horn of Plenty for us all!_

I turn my face to the sky. Is it really midnight already? Crazy what sleep deprivation can do to a person. I had no idea how late it really was.

There's only one face in the sky tonight, and it's definitely one that makes me sad. It's the face of the little girl from District Ten, the one who always wore a camilla flower in her brown hair and lived for the Capitol food. She was too young to die, but then again, aren't we all too young to die? I mean, I'm only seventeen, too young to work, barely old enough to be out of school. And here I am, in a deathmatch, trying not to have my life taken from me.

I don't know, though. It's always saddest when the little kids die. Maybe it's because they're, well, little; too innocent and young for this horror and trauma. Maybe it's because we know that one of us had the nerve to end the life of a child. Really, that's all they are. Children.

We are just kids, forced to be soldiers. But really, are we children anymore? We've definitely lost our innocence, seeing as we've all witnessed death and some of us have caused it. We've all changed in this arena, and there's definitely more change to come.

At any rate, I personally am starting to go a bit crazy due to lack of sleep. I haven't gotten a solid eight-hour night since the Capitol, and this arena isn't the most friendly to those of us who actually want to sleep, with its rolling fields and few hiding places, and no trees. And I'm starting to lose my mind.

I've made multiple irrational decisions in the last few days, things like binging on all my jerky and forgetting to purify my water (I'm surprised I haven't died yet from that one, to be honest). It's kind of a problem, and it won't get any better until I sleep.

Ha. Yeah, like that'll happen in this arena. I'm paranoid of being seen by people, since I know most of the people in this arena will not hesitate to kill me if they see me. So I don't sleep, sacrificing making good decisions to perhaps save my life. Maybe that decision itself is a bad one, but I stand strong on it. I'm not going to fall asleep. I will be killed.

Even if it's not true, that is what I tell myself as my eyelids droop and sleep threatens to take me. My jaw opens in a yawn.

I sit down on a rock near the river bank to go through my supplies. In my bag is a little bit of food, two bottles- one empty and one full- a bottle of purification tablets, a basic first aid kit, socks, and my knife. I pull out a bit of jerky and chew it to keep myself awake. This is going to be a long, long night.

As I chew, I unscrew the water bottles and make my way slowly to the river, careful not to trip on any stones concealed by the blackness of the night. A sprained ankle is the last thing I need right now. I fill my bottles and toss purification tablets into them, then make yet another stupid decision and sip from one of them. After all, a half-purified sip couldn't hurt, right?

Right?

It's not long before I start to feel sick to my stomach. I know it must be from the water, but I can't believe how stupid I was to think that I'd escape water poisoning twice in a row. I vomit into the river, watching the bile and remains of the jerky float away and vomiting again at the grossness of it all. I wash my mouth out with clean water- purified, mind you- and lay down. Maybe this is a good thing- it'll force me to rest my body and give it the sleep it so desperately needs. I sure hope it works out, anyway. I'm exhausted.

I drift into sleep, still sick to my stomach but thankful for the escape from my problems, even if it will only last a few hours. Hopefully when I wake, I'll be less sick.

* * *

 **Well, it's been a while.**

 **I have no excuse, either. Sorry. I'm lazy, I procrastinate. You get the deal, I won't bore you with details.**

 **I will bore you with shameless self promos! I started a new SYOT- Spoils of War- set in the far future of this Earth during WWIV. Go check it out, and maybe submit a competitor. Thanks.**

 **Questions:**

 _Will you submit to SoW? It's ok if you don't. Please don't feel pressured._

 _What do you think about the snake mutts?_

 _And about Beulah's mistake?_

 **No deaths today, so on to the alliance recap.**

* * *

 **Careers: Peridot, Heron, Aqui, Abby**  
 **Boys Next Door: Delancey, Solder**  
 **Loners (not an alliance): Gabriel, Kiara, Aino, Beulah, Camilla, Ethan**  
 **Dead and Gone: Katie, Nokia, Solario, Jack, Taffeta, Sonny, Demetrius, Semolina, Duroc, Bri, Barric, Tilly**

* * *

 **See you all later!**


End file.
